


Building Sandcastles

by InsaneJuliann



Series: Sandbox 'verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety Attacks, But just a little tiny Tony-kidnapping it lasts like thirty minutes tops, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Near Drowning, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture, Violence, discussions of child abuse, vaguely graphic sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 46,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2012664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJuliann/pseuds/InsaneJuliann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All thirty sentence drabbles from my tumblr for these guys.</p><p>They started as nothing, but slowly, a little bit at a time, they made something between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Please Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are already all written out and on my tumblr. However, there will be minor (and a few continuity) edits. Especially since it wasn't until halfway through writing them all that moon and I meshed our two verses together into one. So you might want to read them here even if you've already read them there.
> 
> Also, these take place from before The Stars Are Not Alone to after The Naming of a Puppy. I will mention in the notes around the time that those take place that they have.

"Please stay," Bucky asked, but his date just smiled and made excuses before walking out of the room.

~*~*~

"Please stay," Tony muttered, and Pepper sighed sadly before leaving.

~*~*~

"Please stay," Steve begged, but Peggy only looked confused and worried when he started crying.

~*~*~

Tony was dressed in one of his nice suits, straightening it out as he stood and stared at himself in the mirror. It was an important fundraiser, he reminded himself. Showing up would mean more donations, and he had to be responsible, he was trying that now even though Pepper was gone.

Well, not gone, but not here anymore either. He was trying to be good about that too, not make her feel worse. This was hard for both of them, it’d be easier if they could have space for a little while, but they couldn’t, not now.

He sighed and gave himself one more look over, plastered the right grin on his face and told himself to hold it there until he was back in front of this mirror.

Happy would be waiting out front with the car. Pepper had declined, saying she had her own ride (neither Happy nor Tony were particularly happy about it) and Tony expected it to be a quiet drive. Things were stiff between him and Happy as well, and if Tony was right about why they would be for a while.

"Sir," JARVIS said. "There is a situation that requires your attention in the lobby."

"Way to be cryptic J," Tony said, almost losing the smile. He fixed it back in place, checking with a glance in the reflective surface of the elevator. "Mind specifying?"

"There are three persons-" The elevator doors opened and Tony stepped out, only to pause immediately as they closed silently behind him.

"Rogers?"

Tony was pretty sure it was Steve, though the scruffy beard and baseball hat and glasses made it a little hard to make out clearly. There really was no mistaking that shoulder-waist ratio though. The man next to him stood like Rhodey did when around superiors, and a quick assessment made Tony almost sure it was the infamous Sam Wilson he’d heard about and seen footage of. He’d called Rhodey about him. Good things only, trustworthy.

Which just left the last person, standing just a bit behind Steve and looking like a somewhat clean hobo.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you did not bring him here.”

"Stark, I-"

"Damn it, Rogers!" Tony twisted to hit the panel for the elevator. JARVIS opened it almost instantly. "You _know_ the kind of people that have been coming by here lately! They’d like nothing more than to get their hands on him. They’re desperate for a scape goat, you think he’s not the perfect target?"

Steve straightened, adopting that look Tony recognized from the helicarrier during that first meeting. “They’re not getting him. I’ll-“

"Hurry the fuck up and get in the damned elevator before someone sees. I still have normal employees you know, and they do watch the news."

Sam Wilson was the one to step forward, and Tony made a note to tell Rhodes that he might like this guy. Steve followed, not touching but definitely guiding James Buchanan Barnes forward as well.

Tony stepped in right behind them and snapped, “Penthouse, J. And scrub any security footage that has clear shots of them.”

"Of course, Sir."

Tony ignored the tension that ran through Barnes, the slight jump of Wilson, and the shifting Rogers did that spoke of something Tony wasn’t versed enough in just yet to understand.

The smile was gone, he noted. Might even be a lost cause. He’d have to drudge up a different one. Maybe aid it with alcohol.

"I’ve got floors set up for the team," Tony said. "But the security level of the penthouse is best, so that’s where we’ll station for now. JARVIS, make sure the workshop is locked down, and-"

"Stark-"

"-call Rhodey. Make sure it’s a secure line and that he knows no one can overhear it. He has to know what he’s getting into if we tell him about this, but he’d want to know."

"Of course, Sir. Would you like me to patch the call through to your cell?"

"Nah, he can yell at me when he gets here."

"I’m sure he’ll appreciate the opportunity, Sir."

"Watch it, J," Tony grinned, momentarily distracted.

“Stark.” Steve’s hand closed around his arm and Tony jerked around, pulling it free, to face him. “You need to explain what you’re doing, here.”

"You just brought the most wanted guy on the planet to my Tower, where I’ve started setting up a privatized version of what S.H.I.E.L.D was. I’ve got government officials and reporters and former spies crawling all over the place, desperate to either fuck me over or get in bed with me, and if they catch sight of him-" he pointed at Barnes "-it’ll end well for none of us. So. Keep to the penthouse. It’s secure, JARVIS can help if you need anything. There’s a spare room he can direct you too and I promise the couch is comfortable-"

"Can you look at his arm?"

They all glanced at Wilson, who just raised both brows at them pointedly. “You said he claimed it wasn’t working,” he said to Steve.

Barnes scowled. It was a very Not Nice look, Tony was glad it wasn’t focused on him, but Wilson didn’t seem to care about it.

"Tony Stark is an engineering genius, if anyone can fix it, it would be him."

Tony smirked, inwardly pleased by the recognition. Maria Hill had said the tech of the arm was even better than anything he’d come up with, and that had been plain insulting. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been itching to get his hands on it (and studying the hell out of what info there was to be found about it).

"It’d take a few hours, probably. Have to figure out the nuts and bolts, you know, what makes it tick, but I could do it." Tony shrugged. "Can’t tonight, places to go, people to see."

They stepped out onto his floor, and Tony pointed. “Kitchen. Living room. Hallway with bedrooms and bathrooms. Ask JARVIS.”

He turned back into the elevator, worked on getting a new grin in place - this was an old one, he hadn’t used it in a few years, but hell, he had a wanted man in his apartment, the situation worked - and strode across the lobby.

He hit the street and was about to step into the car when Steve appeared in the doorway, breathless.

"Hey - wait, Stark!"

He glanced over, raising a brow. “Jeez, Cap, did you run down all those stairs or something?”

He blushed. “JARVIS… directed me to the other elevators, too.”

Tony shook his head. “What, Cap?”

Steve rubbed a hand over his hair, glancing around uneasily. He had to still be on alert, hadn’t had enough time to come down from being on the run or whatever. Rhodey got like that sometimes during leave.

"It’s just… I don’t know how long I can keep him here," Steve sighed. "He’s… he’s not always steady, you know? And this, it’s unfamiliar and Sam brought up the work on his arm so now he’s just gonna get worked up over it. I… I need help. I need your help."

Tony stared.

"Please stay." Steve sighed, slumping. "Please? I know you probably have somewhere important to be," he added, gesturing at Tony, "but-"

"Alright." Tony stepped away, ignoring Happy’s muttered protest of "Boss!" He stepped over to Steve, hands in his pockets, and let the smile drop again. "What can I do?"

"Look at the arm?" Steve sounded relieved. "I think… I’m hoping if we prove that we’re not gonna do anything like they did, he’ll calm down some."

Tony nodded slowly. “Or it’ll make it worse,” he warned. His fingers tapped at the reactor. “He only talk to you?” he asked suddenly.

Steve shrugged, which Tony took to mean “basically yeah” and nodded to himself. “Alright. This’ll be interesting.” He chuckled, following Steve inside and back to the elevator.

"JARVIS, call Pep and let her know something came up with the Secret Spy Business and I can’t make it. Then order some pizza, only like quadruple the order, I bet Barnes eats as much as Cap does here."

"Tony? Thanks," Steve said.

Tony shrugged. “Didn’t want to go there anyway.”


	2. I need this.

"Can you…"

Tony glanced up, slowly setting aside the small tool he’d been using to fix up the circuitry of the arm. Barnes wasn’t looking at him, staring at the wall. If Tony hadn’t actually slept the previous night for a decent amount of time, he might have convinced himself he imagined the almost silent words.

Rogers was with Hill and Natasha. It was the first time it was just Tony and Barnes, which had seemingly worried Rogers to no end. Tony wondered if if he was more worried about what Barnes might do, or Tony.

Thing was, Tony had never, not once, heard James “Bucky” Barnes say anything to anyone unless it was Steve. Even then he could count on a single hand how often he’d actually heard him talk to Steve, so it was hard to believe he’d just started saying something to Tony.

"I can do a lot of things," he said after considering him for a moment. "So you’re gonna have to be more specific there."

His jaw clenched, stubble dark against skin that seemed almost sickly pale still. It reminded Tony, in an odd way, of his own reflection when he’d thought he was dying from palladium poisoning.

When Barnes offered nothing, Tony shrugged and went back to work. He muttered angrily about the circuits, he had so many ideas for improvements but a lot of that was going to have to wait until Barnes wasn’t going to freak out and kill him if he messed with it for too long. Right now, Tony was making the last fine-tuning corrections so that it’d actually _work_ again.

"Remove it."

Tony cut off his own muttering, blinking and bringing his mind back from engineering and to conversation.

He was lost.

"Remove what?"

Barnes was staring, unblinking, and then looked pointedly down at the metal arm. Tony’s eyes went wide.

"Please tell me I’m missing something obvious here and you are not asking me to take this thing off of you. I mean I can do that, if you want, but Rogers’d probably throw me off the top of my own Tower." He looked at the arm thoughtfully. "Actually, at some point, we should probably do it anyway, I can make something much more refined. Beyond anything I’ve done my ass," he added in a scathing tone, under his breath. Hill and her stupid assessment of the arm.

"No." Tony flinched back at the harsh tone, hands immediately falling from the arm. Barnes made a rough, frustrated noise. "Not the…" He huffed. "The star."

Tony blinked. “Oh.”

He rolled closer again, pulling lightly until Barnes shifted so Tony could see it better. He dragged a thumb across the plating. “JARVIS, scan the composition here.”

"Of course Sir."

Barnes jerked, so small a movement that if Tony hadn’t had his hands on him he wouldn’t have noticed.

"You’ve been like… officially introduced right? I did that?"

Barnes was staring at him like he was crazy.

"You did not, Sir, but I did take the liberty myself."

"Right." He looked up and shook his head. "Like that wouldn’t have scared the shit out of him J?"

"I assured him I was no threat." JARVIS sounded annoyingly prim, which meant he was offended. Tony grinned.

"Barnes, J runs the house. Keeps us all safe from people that like to try to kill me for various reasons. He’s my idea buddy, helps with my work." Tony shrugged. "He’s here to help, I promise he won’t do anything evil. If he bothers you we can ask him to lay off. But he’s a big help," Tony reassured at the frankly dubious expression he was getting. (That was an improvement, an actual expression.)

"How."

Tony grinned. “JARVIS?”

"Captain Rogers rarely accepts my aid," and didn’t JARVIS sound annoyed by that, "but I am quite capable of helping you reacquaint yourself with current culture, as well as explain any technology or popular culture references Sir will make just because you won’t know them."

"Hey!"

"I can help you in any way you need…" JARVIS paused, then asked, "Please, if I may, what would you prefer I call you?"

He frowned. “What?” His eyes scanned the ceiling.

"Oh. Huh. Didn’t think of that." Tony focused on Barnes, shrugged when he finally looked at Tony. "J calls me Sir, always has. Most people it’s obvious and he doesn’t really ask." Tony frowned. It wasn’t like JARVIS _hadn’t_ asked people before, but it seemed odd he’d ask now, so quickly.

"I… I don’t know." Barnes seemed to shut down then, and Tony let him be. He pulled the specs JARVIS sent him of the arm closer, tapping unconsciously at the reactor as he thought.

"So." He kept his voice low, not wanting to startle Barnes into assassin mode. He still ended up jerking to stare at Tony with uncanny intensity. "I can get the star off. That section of the arm will be less shiny and I don’t suggest getting punched by anything superhumanly strong there until I can fix it up entirely, but I can get it off, if that’s what you want."

Barnes considered it, then gave a single, decisive nod. “I need this.”

"Okay then. Let’s get it off you, shall we?"

If Barnes left seeming a little steadier, limbs looser and eyes more focused, Tony figured it was because he’d finally made a decision for himself after seventy-odd years. He certainly didn’t get why Rogers showed up later that night with a fresh cup of coffee for Tony and a ‘thank you’.


	3. Where the f*ck did that clown come from?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to get this up yesterday for you guys, but Things happened in Real Life and yeah. So you'll get two today.

"I don’t get it," Bucky complained.

"Shh!" Steve flapped a hand at him, not looking away from the screen.

Bucky glared at him, then at Tony when he laughed quietly on his other side. He wasn’t even watching the TV, instead fiddling around on his tablet as per usual. Bucky wondered what he was working on, but the way Tony kept it tilted made him think he wanted to keep it secret. He’d ask later, maybe, when they were down in the lab again.

Tony was surprisingly good company when Bucky found it hard to sleep at night.

He looked back at the TV, and jerked back. “Where the fuck did that clown come from?”

Tony finally looked at the screen, brows raised. “Oh. I remember this one.”

"You’ve seen it before?" Steve glanced away, only for a moment, before shouting on the screen dragged his attention back.

Tony waved a hand and looked back at his tablet, muttering something about ‘Clint’s apartment’ and ‘Darcy’s obsessed’ and ‘lots of booze’. Bucky decided that was a story he definitely wanted to know more of - but only when Steve wasn’t around to get bitchy about them talking during the show.

"Okay, now I’m really fucking confused. The clowns were… glitter?"

Tony laughed again. Steve shushed Bucky again. Bucky fell against the back of the couch with a huge sigh. “This century is confusing.”

He caught Tony glanced at him sideways, lips pulled into a grin, and reminded himself to smile back. It made Tony’s grin widen, which made his eyes crinkle and he relaxed a bit.

"Come on, Barnes," Tony said, getting up. "We’ll leave Steve to his TV drama, and we’ll go work on your technology skills in the ‘shop."

Which usually ended with Bucky watching and sometimes helping Tony with whatever he was working on. It was nice, Bucky enjoyed it, the science just as amazing as he remembered - he did remember, he remembered the Expo and the awe - hoping it’d be in the future.

His metal hand flexed, and he forced himself to shake off that bit of discomfort. He followed Tony down to the workshop, giving the helper bots a wave and catching the phone Tony tossed at him.

"Alright, show me what you remember."


	4. Are you flirting with me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I'm a failure and didn't get this up yesterday. I got distracted writing a much-later plotline in this series.

Bucky watched Steve play with the bot on the other side of the room for a bit. Of course Steve would find it all fascinating and amusing, an intelligent robot that seemed to really enjoy playing or helping. It looked like they were playing fetch from here.

Steve glanced over, smiling, and raised a brow. Checking with Bucky. He offered a smile back, making sure his face was relaxed and calm, showing no signs of tension.

It worked, because Steve’s smile stayed in place and he went back to the bot.

"Why don’t I get a smile like that," Tony said. He didn’t glance up, brows furrowing as he messed with some small circuitry in the arm. He stuck the end of a tool in his mouth, shifting it to one side. It puffed out his cheek obscenely.

"Because you don’t panic if I’m freaking out a bit."

Tony’s grin stretched around the tool, his eyes flicking up for a moment to glance at Bucky through his lashes. Bucky watched his face as he focused back on the work.

It was strangely expressive, but only when he was working down here. Only when he wasn’t thinking about anyone around him, or expecting someone to see. Bucky was good at reading people, the programming constantly analyzing for tells and ticks and signs of falsehood.

As good as _he_ was at reading people, Tony was at hiding from them.

But not so much when working down here, and so Bucky watched Tony intently. Every flicker of an eye, each time his brow furrowed, the twitches of his lips. It was like he was holding a nonverbal conversation, with himself or the machinery.

"JARVIS, you got the specs on handsome’s arm here?"

"Of course, Sir."

"Let me see them." Tony straightened, shutting away where he'd been working, and stretching back to reach a display. The chair rolled. He could have shifted it over there. Instead he stretched out, shirt riding up, giving Bucky a view of tanned skin and smooth muscle.

"Okay." He looked from whatever he’d been doing on the screen to the arm again. "Go ahead and flex those robotic muscles for me, show me what you’ve got." Bucky raised a brow but did, clenching a fist.

Tony hummed appreciatively. “Feel good? No snagging, no misfiring?” He dragged his fingertips along the arm, light and almost playful. “Feel that?”

He did - more so than usual in fact. It made his skin give sharp shivers in response, unused to sensation that strong from there.

"What… what did you do?"

Tony glanced up, smiling with self-satisfaction and a bit of mischief. “Increased the sensor net array. Actually been working towards that for a while, but other things took priority. Thought you might like to have more than a general sensation of picking things up or whatnot.” His fingers drifted across Bucky’s metal ones, the thumb dragging with more pressure. “Feel good?”

His voice was low, warm. He watched Bucky from beneath his lashes, slightly from the corners of his eyes, body tilted forward, at the edge of Bucky’s personal space.

"Are you flirting with me?"

Tony jerked back, eyes going wide for a moment, mouth open before snapping shut.

"What the fuck, Barnes?"

He said it loud enough that Steve stopped playing with the bot - it had a name; Bucky couldn’t remember it half the time, mixed it up with the others. He had no idea how Steve told them apart - and came over. He looked between them, brows pulling down. His eyes lingered with something almost like exasperation on Tony.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Tony snapped. "I gave his arm an increased sensor net, he can get more input, if he doesn’t like it I can undo it though, I-"

"No," Bucky said instantly. He must have come across as a little panicked, though, because Steve was watching him with concern and even Tony stopped looking quite so angry. He cleared his throat. "I appreciate it. I do, Stark."

He grunted, turning away and wiping his hands on a rag brought to him by the bot. “Thanks, Dum-E,” he muttered, tossing the rag away without looking. The bot rushed over to pick it up, then set it carefully on a table.

"That’s all I got for you today," he said, not once looking over at them. "I got things to do, so clear out will you?"

Steve looked less exasperated and more concerned now. Bucky figured this was a better response, since he really hadn’t meant to… upset Tony. He wasn’t sure he actually had, though, because Tony didn’t seem upset, he seemed… not-quite-angry, and it was driving Bucky crazy not to be able to parse him out like he could the others. It made him determined to learn how to.

"Are you-" Steve cut himself off, visibly making the effort not to finish whatever he’d been about to say and instead said, "Alright. Thanks, Tony."

He waved a hand dismissively, still not looking at them.

When Steve looked at Bucky, he shook his head, holding up a finger. Steve nodded slowly, glancing between the two of them before leaving. Bucky stood, twitching just a bit as he actually felt the sleeve of his shirt slid back down his arm. It wasn’t a strong sensation, no more sensitive than the rest of him, but it was _new_ , it was unexpected, it was so many things at once that it kept hitting places in his brain he was still reacquainting himself with.

He breathed in deeply. “I’m sorry.”

Tony twitched. “I thought I asked-“

"I know. I will." He watched Tony carefully. "I don’t… I’m sorry if I read that wrong. I didn’t mean to… I’m…" He sighed, hand rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "I don’t always get things right."

Tony glanced over at him, but his expressions were locked away again. Those eyes were steady, watching and thinking, face too still. After a moment, his lips twitched, a flash of a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I hardly ever get things right.” He turned back around. “If the arm bugs you let me know. I can turn those sensors down, just a bit, so you can get used to it, build up to it or something.”

"Okay." He was still frustrated, sure he’d missed something, some detail that meant success. "Thanks, again."

This time when Tony glanced over, he’d softened enough that the small smile was real, if tired and sad. “It’s nothing.”

Bucky made his way up the stairs, certain he was missing something. Something he was sure he’d gotten, once upon a time, but it was buried away behind the flat assessment of the programming.

Maybe Steve would get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't right away after the last one, and they're not going to officially get together for a while yet.


	5. I'll never unsee that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see, canon typical violence. Creative use of a pencil while being attacked.
> 
> I actually caught up, go me.
> 
> This takes place... probably a month or two after the last one.

Tony really hated kidnappers.

He’d hated them before Afghanistan, he’d loathed them after, and right now he couldn’t decide if he was more annoyed or pissed. They’d somehow gotten into his Tower - he and JARVIS would have to go over how that had happened, even if it was just the first few floors, reception and offices. Then they’d threatened his employees, locked them all in one of the larger rooms, and tried to shoot Tony with some kind of dart. It was… yeah, he was mostly annoyed.

"Pepper is going to be pissed," he ranted, slamming a heavy if broken cabinet door into the face of the attacker in front of him. (Possibly HYDRA, possibly some mercenary hired by a politician wanting to screw Tony over now that he was making waves by hiring a good chunk of former-SHIELD agents as part of his Secret Spy Business. Who the hell knew. This was why he wasn’t cut out for the whole spy thing, he just wasn’t down for this kind of bullshit. Not that he really trusted Maria Hill with it, either, which was why Tony was actually in charge. For now. Until he could find someone better.)

He ducked a punch and stepped back from a kick, throwing up a block and delivering his own hit to the stomach. “I mean,” he continued, “I’ve got this reputation, for being late, because of stupid shit.” He grabbed a pencil off the desk and stabbed it towards someone’s eye, missed, left a nice scratch along the cheek. Whoever sharpened pencils in the office deserved a raise.

"And we broke up, you know, so things are kinda tense, we’re redefining. This is the kind of shit that led to that break-up, you know, she couldn’t handle it, I can’t keep away from it, blah blah." He yelped when a knife came a little too close. "Fuck!"

There were shouts across the hall, near the elevator.

Tony grinned, licked some blood from his lips, and charged forward.

By the time Steve walked in there (Bucky behind him, Tony noted, shaking a bit and eyes a little blank but not as bad as Tony had seen sometimes), Tony was sitting on the closest stable desk on the phone with Pepper.

"This is - what do you mean you’re not accepting it as an excuse?" He rolled his eyes. "Pepper, my suit is ruined and I’m bleeding, you really think the board is going to appreciate me showing up like this instead of just not showing up at - they won’t _believe you?"_ He looked over and gestured impatiently. "Steve, give me your phone. What if I give them photo evidence? _Doctored it?!_ " Tony growled. "What if Captain America vouched for me?" He made a face, passing the phone to Steve.

"My board of directors apparently thinks I’m trying to escape a meeting and that this totally didn’t happen. Captain America is a credible source, so tell them I can’t go Rogers."

Steve looked at him, brows slowly raising, before taking the phone. “Ms. Potts?”

Bucky was staring at Tony. Tony grinned at him. “Hey, you finally left the penthouse.”

"JARVIS said you were being attacked."

"Yeah." Tony waved a hand, then winced a bit and lowered his arm. "Shit, they got it there too?" he muttered, twisting with a grimace and peering at his side. The suit there was torn, bloodied, over his ribs. "Damn it. I liked this suit." Tony’s familiar chatter and the utter calm with which he was handling this did a lot to easing the Winter Soldier programming.

Bucky looked down at the guy with a pencil sticking out of his eye, and when he looked back up Tony Stark was stripping out of his suit and muttering obscenities under his breath.

"Tony!" Steve yelped, just a bit high pitched. Bucky realized he was grinning. "What are you doing?"

Tony looked at Steve like he was being purposefully obtuse, or trying to ask a trick question. “Changing. Or, well, at least taking off my jacket and shirt. They’re ruined. I think Pepper still keeps a spare in her office,” he muttered, tossing the clothes aside carelessly and trying to get a better look at his side.

It’s the first time Bucky had seen the arc reactor without clothing involved. He’d known it was there, seen the light through the shirts Tony wore, seen it directly through the hole-cut tank tops he liked to wear in the workshop. It’s surrounded by pale, healed scar tissue, smooth and a few shades lighter than the tanned skin around it. It seems bigger like this, more unnatural, and yet there’s still that strange beauty to it. Still something about it that is so _Tony Stark_ that Bucky can’t imagine it gone.

Steve stepped up to him, understanding in his eyes even as he said nothing.

Then Tony twisted around and shoved his pants off, pulling down the sides of his boxer briefs to complain about a scratch over his hip and Bucky closed his eyes.

"I’ll never unsee that."

Steve huffed a bit, looking at him knowingly. “What? The damage, this mess, or the view?” His voice was quiet, soft enough that Bucky could barely pick it up and he was right next to Steve.

He looked around, at the unconscious and deceased idiots who had attacked Tony Stark in his own Tower and grinned. The programming had faded back entirely now. “All of it, this whole situation. Never unsee it. And I don’t think I want to,” he added, eying Tony pulling his pants back up, phone pressed to his ear as he asked Pepper where she’d moved his spare suit if it wasn’t in her office now.

Steve laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Guess we’ll have to eventually do something about that.”

Bucky had the strangest urge to pull Steve back in for a kiss, despite the people around them. He let him go start cleaning up the mess around them, instead, and reclined against a desk to watch Tony bicker with Pepper Potts and insist he didn’t need to go to medical.

Steve looked at Bucky in exasperation and held up a hand. Five minutes and they’d drag Tony to a doctor. He nodded and Steve smiled before going back to dragging the idiots Tony had beat up around and tying them up for law enforcement.


	6. Bonus Drabble 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got prompted in a more general "What would happen if Tony was kidnapped" way over on Tumblr and this came out of it. Same week as the last chap - it's really not Tony's week. He's also very unimpressed with Hill's hiring of agents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not kidding, this probably takes place in like three or four days of the last chap. I debated including it here or not, but decided to fit it in, anyway.

"Of course this is my life," he muttered, shifting his hands in the restraints. "I try to be responsible and keep up with SI and the Secret Spy Business and-"

"Ms. Potts said it’s called-"

"I know what Pepper said," Tony snapped. "But it’s my fucking company and I-" He stopped, sighed, banged his head against the wall behind him. "Look, kid, I-"

"Agent Prickett."

"What."

The kid frowned at Tony. “I’m not a kid, I’m Agent-“

"Oh great, a baby agent," Tony muttered. "Like this couldn’t get worse."

"Mr. Stark, I am a trained agent. You don’t even have a suit, I think-"

"Finish that sentence and I fire you, it’s my Secret Spy Business, don’t think I can’t." He probably wouldn’t, if only because the baby agent might get angry and try telling secrets to another spy agency and that wouldn’t end well. But he’d make sure baby agent went on all the sucky missions.

He also needed someone to train these baby agents better. Trained agent Tony’s ass; kid hadn’t even been able to keep himself from getting held hostage and used as leverage to get Tony to cooperate.

Tony sighed, wiggling his wrists again. He could probably get them out of this mess, if he could get out of these damned restraints - metal stuck firmly to the wall, far enough up that Tony had to balance on his toes.

Baby agent was much less restrained. Tony eyed the sulking kid.

"Alright, trained baby agent, get out of those restraints. Shouldn’t be too hard, with the right leverage you can pull them off the wall. They don’t look as well done as mine."

"They’re _metal_ Mr. Stark, I can’t-“

"I am an engineer, I think I can tell when-"

A masked HYDRA agent walked in, pulling a cart of what looked like all the best torture tools. Baby agent looked pale and… yeah, definitely a kid, Hill was going to get a hell of a talking to. From Steve, Tony would make _Steve Rogers_ tell her off for this. (Only because he wasn't sure Darcy wouldn't eviscerate her for making more paperwork that she'd have to deal with.)

"Anthony Stark."

Tony threw a cocky grin. “That’s me. I’d shake your hand but I’m tied up - and I don’t really want to, so there’s that.”

"You will release the Winter Soldier into our-"

"Fuck you." Tony went cold with rage, glaring at the asshole.

"You will-"

"I will _not_ ,” he interrupted loudly, “let you within ten feet of him if I can do anything about it. If I had my way you’d not get within a fucking planet of him but I’m still working on that.”

Baby agent was gaping at him. Tony dismissed him entirely.

The punch to the stomach wasn’t unexpected, was so cliche that even as Tony gasped and coughed through it he was unimpressed. He’d suffered worse, it was easy to weather through the next several hits.

He spat blood from his cut cheek onto the ground. “Not gonna happen,” he reiterated.

The beating started again. Wash, rinse, repeat.

HYDRA goon’s neck snapped fifteen minutes later. Tony lifted his eyes to stare right into cold slate blue.

"Hey, you actually left the Tower. Improvement."

Bucky broke the restraints, started pulling Tony towards the door.

"No, hold up, wait, gotta save the baby agent too, Barnes. Stop gaping," he added, giving the kid an impatient look. His mouth snapped shut, and he managed to look only terrified when Bucky marched up to break him free too.

"Maybe you should take point or cover us or something," Tony suggested, taking a gun off of Bucky’s hip and pressing it into the kid’s hands. He turned pale and almost dropped the gun, looking frantically at Bucky.

Bucky was busy taking care of three agents coming around the corner, so Tony rolled his eyes and left the baby agent to his internal crisis. Maybe he’d quit and Tony wouldn’t have to try to fix his nonsense.

"You know, this was a pretty good response time. You can totally work for my Secret Spy Business, I have an awesome benefits package." Tony followed the firm pressure on his arm leading him through tunnels and halls and up stairs through some ridiculously complex bunker.

"I really need to prioritize work on the suit," he continued, pulling another gun off of Bucky’s back and taking aim at the HYDRA agents across the corridor. He put it back when the last one fell, giving his fingers a shake to dispel the anxious energy. "I thought I should focus on everything else but this just proves that my paranoia was right and I need the suit. A good one, not the old dinosaur one I kept."

He looked back; baby agent was managing to keep up, at least.

"Buck!"

Tony looked over, relieved to see Steve standing near a door. Probably the jet or some other mode of escape was outside. He was tempted to ask for five minutes to find some way to make the building blow up, but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t look good to the press or government, so he didn’t.

Bucky passed Tony off to Steve - almost literally, with the way he pushed Tony right into Steve’s chest and Steve started running his hands down Tony in a quick check. Tony tolerated it, because Steve managed to make it last about ten seconds.

"Hey, where are you-"

Tony reached out, ignoring how Bucky side-stepped his hand, and grabbed hold of his sleeve. “Bucky. Where are you going?”

Cold, silent, Tony could almost see what the Winter Soldier might have looked like. Except this was Bucky, too angry to be anything like the emotionless HYDRA assassin. Beyond angry, so furious that he was…

"He’s going to make sure we’re covered. Tony, it’s okay, I promise. It’s part of the plan."

Tony looked between them, Bucky a frozen fury and Steve earnest righteousness. His jaw set.

"If you’re not on whatever escape we have out of here when it leaves, I am going to… I don’t even know yet, Barnes, but it won’t be fun."

There was a small flicker of a smile, amusement and _fondness_ (Tony didn’t want to touch that one, not now, possibly not ever), and then Bucky turned around and baby agent jerked out of his way.

Steve frowned at him. “Agent Prickett.”

The kid flinched, obviously hearing the Captain America is Disappointed in You tone, and marched forward. “Yes, sir?”

"Hawkeye is readying a jet for take-off, go make sure the way is clear for us."

Tony waited until he was out of earshot before muttering, “You think Clint knows where Natasha is and can convince her to come to the Tower and train all the idiots Maria apparently hired?”

"Nat doesn’t have the patience for training idiots," Steve said, taking another look at the cut high on Tony’s head. Tony flapped his hands at Steve.

"Can we go now? I want a hot shower, and then I’m going to lock myself in the lab until I finish the new suit, this is ridiculous."

Steve’s lips twitched. “Sure, Tony.”

"I fucking hate kidnappers, honestly," Tony muttered, following behind Steve to the jet, flipping off Clint who laughed some dumbass remark, and waiting for Bucky to slip on-board.

If Steve and Bucky insisted on sitting on either side of him… well, Tony certainly wasn’t going to complain. At all. Ever.


	7. I think you missed your calling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, let's just say that work was enough to give me a pretty bad headache and posting this made me feel better.
> 
> HEY GUYS, READ THIS NOTE! I said I'd tell you when the other one-shots in the series took place. STARS ARE NOT ALONE happens between the last chap and this one - obviously closer to this one. I'm talking general timeline with this thing, but within the same month. Tony is very much done with all of this Spy Business shit. Obviously by this point he HAS finished making a new suit (as he has it on Stars are Not Alone) and Pepper has taught Bucky the ways of Tony's coffee.

Tony had been called a lot of things - most of them not really nice. He’d long since learned to keep a thick skin, harden himself against the things people said about him. Usually it worked. (Sometimes it never worked no matter how he tried. Despite telling himself his dad didn’t matter Howard’s words _still_ threw Tony off if he thought about them for too long. Rhodey telling him to get his head on straight after Afghanistan had hurt. Those first, staff-magic-fueled words from Steve had hurt.)

Tony sat on the couch, watching the news because he really had to, at this point he needed to know what information was getting out to the public, what spin was being put on things. He needed to be able to counter it. It was a puzzle, something for his brain to unravel and solve, but not the kind he _enjoyed_ , the kind that meant creating and bettering something, getting his hands scratched and sore from work. This kind was exhausting. But it had to be done.

And until he figured out how to hire Phil Coulson, who he _knew_ wasn’t actually dead but still pretending to be for whatever reason… Tony was the only one around to do it. (Well, the only one Tony trusted to do it right; Maria Hill was smart but a bit too much like Fury for Tony’s tastes.)

The anchorman said something particularly scathing and Tony grimaced, torn between exasperation and boredom. He’d heard that one _plenty_ , couldn’t they come up with - oh, never mind, the other anchorman seemed to have some new things to say. Tony twitched.

"What are you doing?"

He looked over, seeing Steve frowning at the TV. Bucky was right behind him, in the doorway of the kitchen. Sighing, Tony ran a hand over his face and gestured.

"Watching the news, obviously."

Steve walked over, reaching for the remote, but Tony was faster. He grabbed it, took it apart, and smirked tiredly at the annoyed look Steve gave him.

"I’m keeping track," he admitted, if only to get Steve to back down. He didn’t need an argument with him today. "That whole mess the other week isn’t new news, but it was big enough that they’re still talking about it. I need to know what is being repeated the most, so I can combat it. Or encourage it." Though that was less likely.

Steve shook his head, but not like he was disagreeing, and took a seat next to Tony. Tony let him, because well… it was Steve, but also because hey, tactical genius. Might be able to help.

Also he hadn’t been watching the news for an hour so he was probably sharper than Tony at this point.

Bucky appeared a few minutes later, pressing a cup of coffee into Tony’s hands. Tony took a sip, sighing and melting back into the couch.

"I think you missed your calling."

Bucky chuckled as he sat on Tony’s other side, arm over the back of the couch, hand near to Tony’s neck. Tony was far too aware of when his hand was near his neck, it was a bit of a problem really.

"I’m serious," he continued, watching Bucky out of the corner of his eye. "Go get a job as a barista, hell, open your own coffee shop, I’ll fund it, I’ll go like five times a day, alright, you just have to make the best coffee for me."

It got him an actual dimple-inducing smile from Bucky, which was always a success. Steve on his other side laughed quickly, arm shaking against Tony’s.

Did they have to sit so close? Really? They were not helping him with this attraction thing that was going on.

"He never had patience for people being idiots. He’d get one coffee-deprived dumbass in the morning and lose his shit."

Bucky snorted. “I deal with Tony, don’t I?”

"Hey!"

"Tony’s not an idiot he’s hilarious," Steve corrected. Tony made affronted sounds they both ignored.

"True," Bucky agreed.

"Alright, fine; if I change the channel will you two stop it?"

"Sure. I still have some of that Supernatural show to catch up on."

Bucky groaned, but settled deeper into the couch as Tony pieced the remote back together and tossed it into Steve’s lap.

It took almost the entire cup of coffee and half an episode for Tony to doze off between them, stress and lack of sleep catching up to him.

Steve pulled a blanket over him and Bucky stroked carefully through his hair as they eased him down along the couch, turning off the TV and the lights in the room before retreating to Steve’s floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna know what happens when he succeeds in hiring Phil?
> 
> moonrose91.tumblr.com/post/92882441732/hey-have-you-seen-the-oh-phil-clint


	8. I've got one word for you: sing-along!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony has been drinking, he's drunk... but nothing bad. Just... ridiculous.

Bucky poked his head into the room. “Steve?”

Steve glanced up from his place on the couch. He quickly noted how Bucky was unnaturally still, but his eyes still were expressive. It was worrying, but not Winter Soldier programming bad, so that was a bit of a relief. There were days when the programming was set off, where Bucky lost it for a bit and came back to himself uncertain and freaked out. The other day Clint had been crawling around in the vents and they’d lost Bucky for a few hours until he’d managed to wrangle control of himself and the programming again.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, setting aside his sketchbook and getting up, hand curling carefully around Bucky’s elbow. He didn’t pull away, which was another good sign Steve had learned.

Bucky sighed. “Come on.”

Steve followed him to the elevator and up to the floor that was supposed to be one of Tony’s, but everyone had kind of claimed as public space. On the ride up, Bucky alternated between uneasy fidgeting and unnatural stillness, like he wanted to hide he was unsettled but didn’t enough control of the programming enough to do so.

They got off and headed for the other end of the hall and the stairs down to Tony’s workshop, which could only be reached from Tony’s floors. Bucky still hadn’t explained anything, which did make Steve a bit worried, but he wasn’t willing to push it.

"J?" Bucky asked quietly as they approached the glass door.

"Captain Rogers’ emergency code for Avengers business will still open the door, Master James, I promise." Bucky looked relieved at that, stepping aside and gesturing for Steve to do so.

He glanced at Bucky. “What’s going on? You have a code, Bucky, I know you do.”

Bucky’s lips pressed together and he sighed. “He locked everyone out, except on an emergency basis according to Jarvis.”

"Why? What’s wrong?"

"He’s drinking. He’s upset, I don’t know why, he-" Bucky sighed harshly. "Just get us in there?"

Steve entered his code. Bucky led the way inside, showing a familiarity with the workshop that Steve wouldn’t have expected. He wondered how often Bucky was down here without him, then decided he didn’t want to know. Not until he could talk to Bucky about everything, all of what was going on between them, and Bucky just wasn’t there. Not yet.

Tony was splayed out in the backseat of one of his fancy cars, whiskey bottle dangling from one hand, watching something play out on the ceiling. Steve glanced up and sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Tony glanced at him from the sides of his eyes. “Ah.” He waved a hand vaguely. “Jarvis, go ahead and shut it off.”

The images of Howard and a woman Steve recognized from photos as his wife Maria disappeared. Tony took a drink from the bottle, looking between the two of them.

"What’s the emergency?"

"You are," Bucky growled. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, easing him down, and then took a step forward to place himself between Bucky and Tony. Tony’s eyes were remarkably steady, his voice and movements showing no signs of how much he’d been drinking. If not for the bottle, Steve wouldn’t have thought he had been.

"We were worried," Steve said. "Are you okay?"

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m fine.”

Bucky muttered behind Steve, shifting like in preparation for a fight, and Steve held a hand back again, asking him to stay.

"Tony. Give me the bottle and let’s get you into bed."

Tony frowned, pulling the bottle up and twisting onto his side to childishly curl around it. “No. It’s my bottle, I’ve hardly had any, it’s for special occasions, you can’t have it.”

"And what’s the special occasion?" Bucky asked.

Tony eyed him. “I’m don’t think I want to tell you.”

Steve sighed. “Tony, please. Just put the bottle away and come upstairs with us.”

Bucky seemed to have gained some measure of calm, because he stepped forward to lean against the side of the car, looking down at Tony with a smirk. It was slightly strained, but Steve didn’t think Tony would notice.

"If you come upstairs and share that bottle with me, I’ll watch that musical you were insisting I had to see."

Steve was not reassured by the speculative gleam in Tony’s eyes, but if it got him upstairs…. Sharing the alcohol wouldn’t likely affect Bucky, at least not as much as it would anyone not serum enhanced, but it might slow Tony down at least. And if they could get food into him….

"We can order take-out," Steve added.

Tony swung himself upright, sighing like he was irritated but looking somewhat pleased. “Fine. But I want pizza. Jarvis?”

"Ordering sir. I took the liberty of tripling your usual."

"Good man," Tony muttered, leading the way back upstairs.

They went to Tony’s private floor, since he insisted he didn’t want to deal with “Barton’s annoying habit of throwing popcorn at the screen.” Bucky settled next to him on the couch, stealing the bottle for a long drink.

"We’ve got alcohol and a musical, and it’s the middle of the fucking night. Bring it on."

Steve frowned, curious. Bucky just looked resigned, which meant he’d probably already heard this from Tony.

"Bring what on?" he asked.

Tony glanced back at him, grinning. “Rogers. I’ve got one word for you: sing-along!” He raised the bottle in the air and took a solid drink. Bucky made a soundless sigh, taking the bottle back quickly and setting it to the side, out of Tony’s sight and reach.

“I’m not sure that’s one word.” Bucky said.

“Excuse you, of us all which one has multiple doctorates? Yeah, me, I do. If I say it’s one word, it’s one word.” Tony retorted. He started glancing around a bit, so Steve decided to keep him talking.

"What are we watching?" Steve asked, settling beside them. He slipped the bottle from Bucky’s hand, taking a drink himself. The less alcohol in there, the less likely Tony was to drink himself into a real state. Steve had done this game before, with the Commandos. He may not be affected by it, but the taste and the warmth still hit him, spreading fast and smooth through his throat and chest.

"Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog," Tony grinned. "You’ll like it." Then he frowned. "Or maybe not. I don’t know. I like it." He shrugged, settling back into the cushions and drawing his legs up close. "It’s good, either way."

"And we have to… sing along?" Steve asked, grimacing.

Bucky smirked, just a bit. Tony looked at them curiously.

"What if I said yes?"

"I’d warn you I can’t sing," Steve said instantly.

"Are you lying?" Tony eyed him, leaning forward to see around Bucky better. "I feel like you might be lying to me but I can’t tell. Are you blushing? Oh my god Rogers, that’s adorable." He grinned.

"J, play the movie," Bucky said, voice trembling a bit like he was laughing.

"Of course, Master James."

Tony never asked for the bottle back.


	9. Last time I ask you a favor!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did have a drabble set before this, but looking it over again I decided it fit better later on. So you get this drabble now.

Steve glared at Natasha, who sat there drinking her coffee completely unaffected.

Bucky was nearly vibrating with tension next to him, which had Clint watching them closely from where he was perched on the counter. Steve reached out to keep a hand on Bucky, but he sharply shrugged Steve off. He didn’t try again.

"None of you were going to do anything about it." She crossed her legs elegantly. "I merely took matters into my own hands."

"You had no right-"

"I told you about it in confidence," Steve said sternly, cutting off Bucky.

She looked up at them, unimpressed, and then rolled her eyes. “I know, and it didn't betray that.”

"Then why do-"

"Last time I ask you for a favor!" Tony said sharply from the doorway. "Never again. You’re horrible, really, I should have realized this after the whole Natalie Rushman incident."

"The what?" Bucky asked. Tony's entrance seemed to have derailed most of his anger, at least for the moment. Steve decided he wasn't going to be the one to explain Tony's 'I'm dying so I'm going to do a bunch of crazy shit' phase.

Clint shook his head. “I warned you, man, Natasha has no patience for other people’s problems.”

"I asked her for advice, not to-” His eyes cut to Steve and Bucky and then away, flitting around the walls and floor. His hands twitched at his sides.

"I took care of it," Natasha said calmly. "Do you realize how annoying it is to have to listen to two of you complain like silly children about how the other couldn’t possibly like you, and watch all three of you act like lovelorn idiots? You should thank me." She got up and put her mug in the sink. As she walked by, Bucky took half a step like he was going to continue confronting her, Steve stayed exactly where he was, and Tony took a large step aside.

He kept glaring at her, arms crossed. “Never again,” he said.

She smiled, reaching out to pat his cheek. Tony jerked back, eyes darting to her fingers and back. “Stark. You’re welcome.”

"I didn’t say thank you!" he called after her.

Clint chuckled from the counter. “I don’t see why you’re upset. She practically asked them out for you.”

"You," Tony said, turning to point sternly. "Shut up, or no upgraded arrows for a month."

Dropping from the counter, Clint muttered, “Like you could go a week without.” He left the kitchen. Silence fell.

Tony wasn’t looking at them, arms folded and shoulders tight. Bucky glanced at Steve, who seemed torn. Rolling his head, cracking his neck, Bucky decided to do something about it.

"You wanna tell me why we got reservations for some fancy dinner?"

He stepped forward, stopping only once Tony took a step back.

"I did not make those," Tony said, "Natasha did, probably thought she was being funny, bet Clint was-"

"You said you… asked her for a favor." Steve sounded hesitant. Bucky could hear him get closer behind him. "What…" He drew in a sharp breath. "Did you ask her for advice… about… us?"

"Why would I do that?" Tony muttered. "What makes you think I’d do that?" He looked on the edge of fleeing, already half-turned towards the doorway. 

"Because, idiot." Bucky took two quick steps forward, grabbing Tony by the front of his shirt and tugging him forward. "You want us, too."

Bucky… couldn’t really remember the last time he’d kissed someone, someone who wasn’t Steve and that had been… only a few times, brief things, meant more for comfort than anything else. He had no idea if he was doing something wrong, if he should be pressing forward harder or softer or if he shouldn’t have even done this at all.

Tony jerked back, eyes wide. “Jesus Barnes,” he choked. They stared at each other for a moment, then Tony reached up, grasped a handful of Bucky’s hair, and pulled him in again, pressed close.

"So." Steve grinned, rubbing at his hair awkwardly. "Dinner then?"

"Sure," Tony panted.

"If we have to," Bucky muttered. He’d really rather skip it, but from the look Steve shot him that wasn’t going to happen. He glanced at Tony; maybe Steve had a point, because Tony might have that cocky grin on his face, shoulders back and relaxed looking now, but his fingers were still twitching and his eyes kept flicking away, usually towards the floor. "But can we at least go somewhere I can pronounce?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank you all for the kudos and reviews I've gotten! I appreciate each and every one. It goes a long way to making me smile after a bad day at work or when Real Life problems get a bit much. So thank you. I hope you continue to enjoy.


	10. I'm lost

"Sir, Master James is calling."

"Put him through," Tony said around the wrench in his mouth (he’d run out of hands) and rolled himself out from under the newest of his cars.

"Tony."

"What’s up," he said, handing the wrench to You and taking the rag Dum-E handed him to clean up a bit. Considering it was rather dirty, all it really seemed to do was smear the grease and oil around evenly. He sighed and tossed it aside.

"I need help."

Tony frowned, walking over to his desk and reaching for the keyboard. “What’s wrong? Bucky?” he prompted.

Bucky sighed, a bare breath of almost-sound. “I’m lost.”

"You’re… how are you lost?"

"Went for a walk, and I… I was thinking, memories, I just…"

"Hey, it’s cool," Tony hurried to say, trying to soothe the frustrated, almost frantic babble. Bucky had been doing good, JARVIS estimated about eighty percent of memory retrieval, which was honestly more than Tony had ever dared to hope for.

"I can send St-"

"Don’t tell Steve."

Tony’s eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Why?”

"Tony, please. Don’t tell Steve."

Tony grumbled, because not telling Steve probably wouldn’t end well for him, but Bucky sounded… It wasn’t desperate, but there was something too close to pleading, which coming from Bucky was enough to set off the few inner-alarm bells Tony had.

"Alright," he sighed. "Stay where you are, I’ll be there soon." He hung up, telling JARVIS to send the location to Tony’s cell, and slid into his favorite car.

Bucky was near Brooklyn. Tony thought that might explain a few things - the whole memories comment, being lost. Bucky was leaning against the side of a restaurant when Tony pulled up, his arms crossed and shoulders tight. The jacket and gloves kept his arm out of sight, his hair pulled back neatly.

He moved before Tony came to a complete stop, slipping into the car and pulling the door firmly shut.

Tony glanced at him, concerned and trying not to show it. Bucky’s eyes weren’t completely focused, drifting sightlessly around for a few moments before seeming to catch on random things and sharpen.

"Where to, Barnes?"

"I don’t… I don’t know."

Tony nodded, thinking as he pulled back into traffic. If Bucky hadn’t wanted Steve to know, maybe he wouldn’t want Steve to see him acting like this. (Maybe Steve would be able to help where Tony floundered.) This was all still way too new, Tony was bound to fuck it up sooner rather than later, but he’d rather hoped he’d last longer than a few weeks.

So, somewhere quiet, somewhere that maybe the past and the present would be so discordant for Bucky, somewhere where Steve wasn’t.

Tony hesitated for only a moment before changing directions.

If Clint hadn’t been out on a mission - again - Tony would have gone to his apartment. As it was, Clint’s place was out, and that left…

"Hey, Darcy," Tony said, grinning widely even though she wasn’t there to see it. It felt strained, so that was probably a good thing. "If I told you that Bucky and I were outside your building right now… What, no, no, why do you think something’s wrong?" He pulled the phone away to stare at it incredulously, then brought it back to ask, " _Why_ do you think we blew something up and Steve’s mad? I did not blow anything up this week, honestly. Thank you.”

He pushed off the car and walked around to the side, popping the door open and pulling Bucky out. “Come on, up we go…” He dragged in a steadying breath and smiled breezily. “Darcy’s awaiting, can’t space out now.”

Ignoring the look Darcy gave them both when she opened her door, Tony kept ushering Bucky forward until they reached the couch. Tony’s fingers tapped restlessly over his reactor; he couldn’t think of what to do next. He’d gotten them somewhere quiet, somewhere that hopefully wouldn’t do that ‘not like the memories say’ thing both Steve and Bucky sometimes had trouble with. Somewhere Steve wasn’t like Bucky wanted, though Tony still wasn’t sure that was smart. What if Steve got mad that he-

Darcy touched his shoulder and Tony jerked, stepping aside and staring at the beer she was holding out to him with a raised brow.

"Take it, Tones. You need it."

He sure as hell did. She handed another to Bucky, smiling at him all sweet as candy and sat right next to him, almost cuddled into his side. Cautiously, Tony came closer, settling himself on Bucky’s other side.

Bucky made a somewhat irritated sound and slung his metal arm over Tony’s shoulders, dragging him in closer.

"I was about to start Monty Python," she said, picking up the remote.

"What?" Bucky asked, voice just a bit hoarse.

"Oh my god, we are definitely watching it," she declared. "You’ll love it."

 

Natasha found them all curled up on the couch much later, sleeping. Bucky peeled open an eye to watch her from over the back of the cat, somewhere between Bucky Barnes and Winter Soldier, but seemingly good to let her come closer.

"I’ll tell Steve to stop worrying," she murmured, easing back out of the room and pulling out her cell, telling Steve that yes, they were fine, and no, he didn’t need to come over. She’d send them back in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we can see me referencing vaguely at Pet AU. In that I mention "the cat" and Natasha and Darcy's apartment.


	11. Bonus Drabble 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> moonrose91 replied to your post:"Give me a hand" - A joke drabble would have been hilarious. Because Bucky TOTALLY would remove his arm to do this thing. He would have. Especially after Darcy showed him Toy Story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sparing a few minutes between jobs to post this for you guys! I just had a FABULOUS (and by that I mean terrible) time while waiting for the bus, so hopefully this brings a smile to everyone's face, like my friends did to mine when I needed them.

Tony was twisted uncomfortably to get to the part of the car, and when he stretched his hand out for the replacement he was… shy a few inches.

Dum-E was getting some upgrades done. You and Butterfingers were helping Bucky with his arm, simple upkeep they were capable of doing. Steve was napping on the couch after a long mission, Tony didn’t want to wake him.

He stretched farther and almost fell and smacked his head on something. Okay then. Not going to read it.

"Bucky. Give me a hand," he called, wiggling his fingers pointedly towards the tool.

A moment, then something clattered to the floor nearby. Frowning, Tony twisted his neck and…

_“Are you kidding me?!”_

Bucky laughed hard enough to wake up Steve, who looked between them, caught sight of the metal arm on the floor and raised his brows. “I don’t want to know,” he muttered, shifting to get comfortable and closing his eyes again. “You two, I fucking swear…”

"I’m gonna kill Darcy if this becomes a thing," Tony warned.

"Nah you won’t," Bucky chuckled, coming over and grabbing his arm off the ground. He set it on the backseat of the car, grabbed the replcement part Tony needed, and passed it to him. He sat down on the floor near Tony, picking his arm up and starting to reattach it. "You like her too much. Plus Nat and Clint and Phil would have to kill you, which means Steve and I would have to kill them. Which means the world would depend on the Fantastic Four."

"Fucking Richards," Tony said instantly.

"I still don’t get why…"

"Trust me," Steve said from where he was still sitting with his eyes shut on the couch. His lips twitched. "You don’t wanna know."

"Just don’t with the Toy Story jokes, Buzz Lightyear," he muttered. "Then we won’t have to be at fault for the world burning."

Bucky chuckled, smiling slightly as he tested to make sure his arm was good, then reached out to steady Tony. Tony shot him a smile of thanks and finally got to use both hands to hold the part in place and secure it.

Give me a hand, he was never saying that again, he was surrounded by a bunch of dorks…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating posting the not-bonus drabble today too or not. We'll see what happens...


	12. Wait right there, don't move!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hums the Evil Song from Phineas and Ferb because MOON STARTED IT*
> 
> So my friend flaked on me tonight. I'm kind of upset about this and considering drinking her birthday present myself.

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

It echoed in Steve’s ears, muffling out the sounds of battle, the sounds of medical, everything else.

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

Sometimes Steve hated the suit - because he could never see Tony’s face under it. It was so stoic, stern, looked entirely unflappable, and sure Tony could change his expressions between one and the next so smoothly it was nearly impossible to tell what was real and what was faked. But Steve had been getting good at reading the tells. He wondered what Tony’s face had looked like in that moment.

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

Right then, Steve agreed completely with Tony’s hatred of magic. It never ended well for anyone, only made things difficult and horrible. It was hard to plan around something that you didn’t entirely know. Too many unknown variables, as Tony would probably put it.

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

Bucky hadn’t listened. It was only the third time he’d gone out with the team, the first time dealing with magic. He’d not waited. He’d moved.

Steve wasn’t sure if he was grateful that he had or not.

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

Steve had no idea what Tony had been planning. Why it had been important for them to stay where they were. Steve did know that if Bucky hadn’t moved, things would have been worse for Tony.

The warriors (from some other dimension; Steve couldn’t remember what Thor had called it) had long, strangely shaped weapons that pulsed with a pink, almost purple glow. None of them had been able to figure out where they were coming from, but even as they took down some, more appeared.

Tony had figured it out, somehow. A portal or invisible doorway or something. As he’d been shutting it down, one last warrior had stepped through and thrust the weapon forward.

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

Bucky had moved. He’d shoved Tony aside even as it’d gone through his side instead. Tony had finished whatever he’d been doing - and the blast had knocked all of them to their feet, even as far away as they had been.

Tony was unconscious, possible concussion. Bucky was unconscious, in surgery. There was something about the magic of the weapons that was making things difficult…

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

Steve wasn’t going to move from this chair until at least one of them woke up.

Natasha sat down next to him - he thought perhaps she’d been there earlier - and grabbed his hand, unfolding his fist and pushing a cup of coffee into it.

"It isn’t your fault."

Steve breathed in slowly. “I know.”

"Do you?" She raised a brow. "Then stop acting like this. The rest of the team needs you too, and we’re worried about them as well."

"…I need them to wake up. Just… I need…. They have to wake up."

"They will or they won’t, Cap. You sitting here like this won’t change that."

She was right, of course, and it didn’t make him feel any better but he did finally get to his feet. Her words weren’t comforting, weren’t meant to be comforting. They did, however, jar him out of the funk he’d slipped into.

_"Wait right there, don’t move!"_

"Thor-"

"He’s taken care of most of it," Natasha answered before he’d even finished asking. "He also offered to return to Asgard if our doctor’s have trouble with Barnes’ wound."

Steve nodded, appreciative and not sure how to word it without saying more than he wanted to. Not then, not in this type of situation.

He went to debriefing, managing to get through it with his professionalism intact. He spoke to each teammate individually, checking in with them, making sure they’d swung by medical and gotten checked out. Thor offered his apologies for not realizing how they were getting through from their world sooner, but Steve clapped him on the shoulder and waved it off. It wasn’t Thor’s fault.

He ate the mediocre food provided and then went back to his seat in the hall.

Pepper arrived forty minutes later. Her hair was falling out of it’s usual neat order, and her eyes were red. She played with the pendant at the end of her necklace restlessly, having sat down next to Steve and kicked off her heels. Steve got up and got them both coffee - probably the only decent thing to have here. The agents and doctors _really_ liked their coffee.

It was another hour or so that a doctor finally walked in, and both Pepper and Steve came to their feet. He looked between them, hesitated just a moment, then straightened.

"Mr. Stark has woken up and seems to be alright. He’s thankfully showing no signs of trauma. He is, in fact, trying to sign himself out of medical as I understand it. He does seem very…"

"He doesn’t like hospitals," Pepper offered apologetically.

The doctor smiled, but said, “Yes. Well, I believe his… upset comes more from-“

Tony appeared, seeming only a little unsteady, and Steve wondered where the jeans and t-shirt had come from, since he hadn’t seen Pepper bring them. Maybe she had though. His attention hadn’t been the greatest. He was scowling furiously.

"Tony," Pepper started, hand reaching out. Tony brushed right past her, getting right in Steve’s space, and poked him in the chest.

"What part of ‘stay, don’t move’ did your buddy not get, huh?"

"Tony…"

"He’s a damned idiot! I had-"

"Those weapons were able to cut through your armor, we all knew that."

"It’d have held up better than what he had!" Tony’s voice echoed off the walls a bit. Steve reached out carefully and set his hands on Tony’s shoulders.

"His choice."

"He shouldn’t have-"

"Yell at him about it when you see him."

Tony’s fingers had wrapped around Steve’s wrists, and he had no idea when that had happened, but they tightened at those words. The anger cracked, just a bit, enough to see the fear and guilt. “He’s okay?”

The doctor cleared his throat and Steve looked at him over Tony’s shoulder. “Sgt. Barnes’ surgery has finished and we believe that - though the usual accelerated healing appears to be much slower than usual - he will recover. Our understanding of magic, however is-“

"Thor has offered to bring Asgardian healers if it proves troublesome," Steve said. "Ask him."

The doctor’s face pinched, reluctance maybe or irritation at being interrupted, Steve didn’t know. He just stared the man down until he nodded, told them the room Bucky was in, and left.

"Bucky’ll pull through. He’ll by fine Tony. He’s a tough son of a bit-"

Steve remembered Pepper was there and glanced up, blushing a bit because his mother had taught him better than to swear in front of a lady, but Pepper seemed more focused on Tony than Steve. Her lips were pressed together a bit, her hand still up at her throat, holding the pendant but not moving it back and forth anymore.

"Come on," Steve said quietly. "Talk to Pepper, and I’ll get us something to drink and let the rest of the team know. I’ll meet you in Bucky’s room."

Tony nodded. Steve gave his shoulders a last reassuring squeeze and stepped away, letting Pepper move up into the space he’d just left. Her voice was soft but urgent, and Steve made sure not to listen in on what she was saying.

Fifteen minutes later, he stepped into Bucky’s room to find Tony already there, slumped in an armchair he must have pulled in from the other corner of the room and glaring at Bucky.

"I’m going to let Dum-E do the next upgrade on his arm for this," he muttered.

Steve smiled a bit, putting a water bottle in Tony’s hand. “You do that.” He sat down in the other chair, next to Tony. He silently passed over his water when Tony finished his; Tony didn’t seem to really notice, still glaring resolutely at Buck.

"I’m glad you’re okay, Tony."

Tony’s eyes flickered to him and away again, ducking down towards the floor.

"But if you pull a stunt like that again, I’m going to help Bucky with whatever clever idea of punishment he thinks up."

Slowly, Tony’s lips curled at the corners. He didn’t look up from the floor, he didn’t say anything, but the small smile and the loosening of his shoulders told Steve plenty.

He put his feet up on Bucky’s bed. At Tony’s questioning look, he explained, “Jerk did this all the time when I was in the hospital. Fair play.”

Tony’s laugh was a bit rusty, but he put his feet up by Steve’s and they settled in to wait.


	13. You forgot to say the magic word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really been looking forward to chilling tonight and not thinking of all the shit going on lately. Because I am resentful of this being taken away from me, I'm instead treating you guys to two chapters.

"Tony, come on."

He was on a roll with this, really he was, if he could just figure this last piece that was being purposefully uncooperative then he could-

"You’ve been down here for three days."

-and then he could add on this to the, wait, don’t get ahead of yourself Stark, but make a note of that, definitely an idea to pursue, after he secured cooperation for-

"Natasha has threatened to shoot you with a tranquilizer. I’m starting to think I should let her."

-ouch, that hurt, but he didn’t have time to do much with it. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked on it absently. It was just a stupid little cut, no need to be childish about it. Good thing it wasn’t the hand he needed to solder the-

"Tony, please. Come upstairs and let someone look at that."

-almost, he almost had it, oh, maybe if he-

"You forgot to say the magic word."

-then it would-

"What’s that?"

-and he could-

"Coffee."

Tony glanced up. “Huh?”

Steve stood there, hands on his hips and head hanging down, shaking slightly. Bucky grinned cockily, a cup of coffee in hand. Tony focused on it.

"Is that for me?"

"Sure," Bucky agreed, far too easily, and Tony was right because he added, "If you come upstairs and let Bruce take a look at your hand."

Frowning, Tony looked down at his hand. The entire side of his thumb was bleeding, and huh, when had that happened, he hoped he hadn’t gotten blood on anything. Kind of stung now that he thought about it.

"I…" He glanced at what he was working on. It was almost finished, and-

"Tony," Steve said. Just his name, and it wasn’t angry or disappointed. Just… simply his name.

Bucky wiggled the coffee cup a bit. “Come on. Coffee is gonna go cold.”

Frowning, Tony shoved up from his seat, coming over and snatching the coffee from Bucky with his good hand. It tasted like heaven going down, so he barely noticed that Bucky had grabbed his hand and was muttering over it.

Steve’s hand settled on his back, nudging them towards the stairs. “Let’s get Bruce to look at it. Jarvis?”

"Doctor Banner is on his way to the living room."

"Thanks."

Tony drank more of his coffee, glancing at the two others thoughtfully. He frowned. “…Did you threaten to let Natasha tranq me?”

Bucky started laughing and Steve’s ears turned red.

"Barnes, you’re my favorite." Tony said firmly.


	14. This one's on me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who'll be seeing Guardians of the Galaxy later today...!

Money meant so little to Tony. He knew he had a lot of it, he knew as long as he kept making awesome inventions he’d continue to have a lot of it, and even when the stocks dropped when he quit making weapons he’d never worried.

So when he first started… dating Steve and Bucky, he’d paid for dates. He’d just slip his card and pay before they could protest (they did anyway, but by that point there wasn’t anything they could do about it). It wasn’t like they’d been able to work jobs for the past several years, and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s pay hadn’t been all that impressive and it was now gone, so.

Steve and Bucky had grown up during the depression. They had been poor and from immigrant families and he knew money had been a big deal for them. He knew that, and knew that it still was a sensitive topic for them, which was why he quickly deflected each time how much things cost came up. Really, he liked treating the people around him, liked giving them things.

They didn’t actually have a chance to go out all that often. Usually they would get together in one of their living rooms or kitchens, watch a movie or eat dinner together. When they did manage to go out, Steve only knew a few places he’d seen over the few years, and Bucky knew exactly none, so Tony tended to choose.

Thing was, Tony’s typical places weren’t _cheap_ , and that meant Steve and Bucky spent a good five minutes before and at the end of each date making uncomfortable mutters.

They hadn’t been on a date in a month (and considering they’d only been going out for three that was a pretty long time if anyone asked Tony) but there really hadn’t been time. Between the whole Private Spy Business, SI, the government still hounding him… Tony was exhausted.

"Go home, Tony," Pepper sighed. She’d long since kicked off her heels, curled up on the couch in her office with paperwork, while Tony was spread out on the floor with new schematics for a security program.

"I need to get this done," he muttered, blinking to clear the fuzziness from his vision.

"Tony, we’ve been here for hours, it’s late. We can finish this all up tomorrow afternoon. Go get some sleep."

Tony blinked up at her as she ran a hand over his hair, stroking gently. It was something she’d done when they’d been a couple, but now it lacked the same context. It still comforted him, and he thought maybe that should have been strange but it wasn’t.

"Okay." He pushed to his feet - he really was getting too old for sitting on the floor. Pepper ushered him out of the office, to the elevator before heading towards the lobby. He listed against the wall, blinking and yawning tiredly.

Bucky looked up, surprised, when Tony stumbled down the hall.

"What’re you doing up?" Tony muttered.

Shrugging, Bucky just said, “Memories.”

Tony nodded, blinking sleepily at him, and Bucky’s lips quirked. “Going to bed?”

Tony grimaced, shaking his head. “No.”

"Uh-huh." Bucky sounded amused. "You look like you’re about to pass out."

"I just need coffee," Tony denied. "Finish my schematics."

"I’ll make it for you." Bucky pushed off the couch, heading into the kitchen. Tony gave it a moment’s thought before following. He slumped at the table, eyes falling shut as he waited with his chin in his palm. He started when Bucky set a warm mug in front of him.

"Sure you don’t want to sleep?"

Tony glared and took a quick gulp of -

"This isn’t coffee."

"It’s hot chocolate."

"I don’t-"

"You don’t need coffee," Bucky said calmly, sitting next to Tony. "You need sleep."

"And how is this supposed to help?"

"It’s warm, sweet." Bucky shrugged. "Sometimes helps when my head’s too busy."

Tony eyed him for a moment before taking another sip. It was good, just like Bucky’s coffees were damned good. There were circles under Bucky’s eyes, but his eyes weren’t flat or empty like they got when he was struggling. Tony took it as a good sign.

"You want some?" he asked, offering the mug.

Bucky shook his head, a small, fond kick of his lips revealing a dimple. “Nah. You can do the helping next time. This one’s on me.”

It was what Tony quipped if Steve or Bucky protested too much on a date. ‘I’ve got this.' 'This one’s on me.' 'Don’t worry about it.’

He smiled and took another sip, warm and admittedly sleepy, the sweet chocolate coating his tongue. It was relaxing to sit there with Bucky, quiet company.

"You want company?" he asked when he’d finished the thick chocolatey dregs.

"I’m good, Tony. Go get some rest."

"Alright." Tony yawned. "Night, Bucky."


	15. That is one hell of a mess.

"What… happened?"

Tony and Bucky both looked up guiltily. (In Tony’s case, it was also slightly defensive, already preparing for some sort of attack, which meant Steve had to tread carefully.) Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, smile sheepish, and shrugged.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Bucky, every idea you think is a good one ends up a disaster."

"What about when we went to Coney-"

"I threw up."

He frowned, either nor remembering that bit or trying to think of something else.

"What about when my mama took us to the fair-"

"And you dragged me all over until my asthma acted up?"

"That was not my fault, you said you were fine," he immediately answered, scowling.

"Guys-"

"What about the time we went to that new movie?"

"And we didn’t have the money, so you snuck us in and we ended up getting chased for five blocks and-"

"Oh shut up Steve, you-"

Tony clapped his hands together loudly. “As entertaining as that might be, how about we move up to the living room? I for one would like a shower.”  
Which brought Steve back to his original point - the disaster surrounding the two. A table was knocked over, everything on it fallen to the side. There were repulsor blast marks on the sturdy walls Tony had built purposefully for his lab. There was a dent in one of the chairs the size of a fist.

"That is one hell of a mess," Steve pointed out. "Mind explaining it?"

"Not really," Tony muttered, fiddling with the armor over one of left hand and forearm. It peeled away, some part of it seeming to catch when it shouldn’t. Tony frowned, muttering to himself in half formed words that made no sense to Steve.

He looked at Bucky, who shrugged again.

"In case the armor is damaged and he has to get out of the suit. He can just use the repulsors, but he has to learn to fight with just them. Probably against not entirely human opponents - like me."

Tony was giving Bucky a scathing look. Steve ignored it for the time to just stare at them, hands settling on his hips. “And you didn’t try this out in the gym… why?”

"Clint and Natasha are down there," Tony sighed, tossing the armor onto the table carefully. "They’d have wanted to stick around and watch. Offer ‘suggestions’." The sneer on Tony’s face made it clear what he thought of that.

"They’d only be doing it to be helpful. They like you, you know," Steve said, smiling a bit.

Tony shrugged, mumbling nonsense, shoulders just a bit tight. Steve didn’t get why Tony refused to believe that. Natasha… maybe he could get that, since Tony and her hadn’t seemed to get off to a good start, but she did show him affection in her strange rather threatening way. She’d set up their first date, after all, because Tony had asked her for advice. Clint and Tony, though. That made no sense, because they were like two peas in a pod some days, snarking back and forth and talking weapons like a second language. Steve had caught them once, drinking beer and eating pizza, while lounging on the couch watching some sci-fi movie he was unfamiliar with.

Again, it was Bucky that offered an explanation. He seemed somewhat amused, but mostly resigned. The tightness around his eyes was all too telling to Steve.

"Well, see, last time Tony and I spared in the gym they felt I was being a bit too… rough."

"Rough." Steve raised his brow, unimpressed.

"They told him that if I left a sparring session bleeding again they’d hide his body." Tony rolled his eyes sharply. "I decided I didn’t feel like dealing with them."

Steve glanced at Bucky, getting it. He fought the smile off his lips, if only because it would just upset Tony more, and nodded agreeably instead. “Alright. Next time, maybe, just move more stuff out of the way.”

"Terrain practice," Bucky said, completely straight faced. Steve didn’t buy it.

He walked over, pulling Tony forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. This thing was still new enough that it took several moments for Tony to relax into the touch, but Steve could be patient. “How about we wash up, then, and meet up in the living room? I’ve made camp potatoes.”

"What potatoes now?" Tony eyed him suspiciously, and it only increased when Bucky let out a moan.

"Your ma always made the best…" He hummed happily. "Yeah, come on, quick, shower, I want my food." He grabbed Tony, tugging him in front of them and then hustling him out of the lab and upstairs. Tony only protested slightly, likely just for show or make some point only he was aware of, and grumbled his way down the hall to his room.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could slip into one of the guest showers on the floor, brushing loose strands of sweaty hair off his face. “I’ll talk to them, explain. Good job keeping him distracted though.”

Bucky shrugged. “They didn’t think he’d take it like that, I’m sure. Guy keeps expecting us all to think the worst, I don’t know if he can even recognize when people are genuinely fond of him.” He shook his head. “‘Sides, as much as I did it for his benefit, he honestly did it for mine. He’s as bad as any of us.”

"Yeah." Steve grinned. They weren’t the Howling Commandos, but he liked this new team. They were all a little damaged, all rather socially inept (Steve thought that maybe of the team, Hawkeye was the best among them, and that was really saying something), but they were fiercely loyal and protective of each other, and that made them closer than would make sense.

"That food better not burn Steve, and there better be cheese. They were always the best when you could put cheese on them."

"I’ll get some out," he promised, stepping back towards the kitchen. Bucky grinned - a genuine, cheek-splitting grin - and left quickly for the shower.

Steve shook his head, fond, and went to get plates ready for his boys.


	16. Give me a hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... a tinsy bit late with this one, but whatever. Busy day.

"Tony!" Steve called, even as Bucky ran up behind him, cursing nonstop under his breath.

"Tony, damn it, respond!"

Still nothing. “Hawkeye, take him down,” Steve said coldly. “I don’t care how you do it, you get that bastard on the ground and out. Natasha, Hulk, containment of those damned _things_.” Then he focused on Bucky, lips pressed grimly together. “Give me a hand.”

Bucky gave a sharp nod, coming next to Steve to start digging carefully through the rubble. It was slow going, even working together to make sure nothing collapsed in on them. They called for Tony constantly, waiting for a response, not getting one.

"Got sight of him," Bucky said, startling Steve from the careful check of the rubble on his right that he’d heard shifting. It seemed to have just been settling, but better safe at this time. He followed Bucky’s gesture and saw the red of the suit, dusty and dull.

"Tony, if you got yourself knocked out I’ll-"

Tony’s hand slapped down on the ground, and at least that was a response. With him in sight, they worked a little quicker. It was painstaking work to lift the beam that had fallen over Tony’s torso and pinned him in place. Bucky lowered it slowly once Steve had dragged Tony out.

He pulled off the helmet and Tony blinked at them, a little worse for wear and seeming a bit out of it but nothing to panic about.

"I need to get you a direct line to JARVIS," he mumbled. Bucky narrowed his eyes because there was the start of a slur in his words.

"Yeah," Steve breathed. "Do that. Please."

Tony made an apologetic hum, brows pulling in a small frown. “Sorry.”

"I just…" Steve let out a heavy breath and wrapped a careful hand around Tony’s head, pulling him in and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I’m glad you’re okay."

"Up you get," Bucky said, pulling Tony to his feet and steadying him when he staggered a bit. "I don’t trust this thing not to fall on us for too long. We’ll get clear and Bruce can check you out."

Tony made a whining noise but Steve spoke right over him, insisting. Bucky squeezed the back of his neck and directed him back the way they’d come through.

Tony falling from the sky into a building like that was terrifying - and considering what Bucky knew of the Battle of Manhattan from what Steve had told him one late night, it was something right out of Steve’s nightmares. Tonight would be rough.

He wasn’t surprised when Steve marched up to the damned idiot of the week and punched him in the nose, knocking him to the ground. Not a single one of the others were surprised either.


	17. This isn't exactly what I had in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions/discussions of child abuse

"You know, when I said we should get to know each other more…." Tony sighed. "This isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

Bucky ground his teeth. He kept his breathing calm only through the ingrained… training. He knew he was wavering on the edge of another slip-up, and he wasn’t sure he cared.

Steve pushed his finger against the screen, sliding the tablet towards Tony. He did that thing where he sucked in a breath to steady himself and spoke calmly, firmly. In what Tony called his ‘Captain America voice’ and which Bucky called his ‘everyone better tread carefully before I lose my shit’ voice.

"What is this?"

Tony glanced down at the file Bucky had… _found_ and back up at them. He shrugged, staring at them with vague annoyance and too much calm. “Looks like a medical report, Cap. I’m sure they had those back in your day.”

"Yeah? Doesn’t look familiar?" Bucky asked.

Tony gave him a very unimpressed look. “Obviously not, as I was seven and they don’t let seven year olds see medical reports. You want to tell me why you’re hacking old files of mine?”

"You said we should get to know each other."

Steve shot him a scolding look. “Bucky, lay off the attitude.” He turned back to Tony. “The doctor’s flagged it. For signs of abuse. Tony…”

Rolling his eyes, Tony waved it away. “Seriously, I fell out of a tree and broke my arm.”

"Tony," Bucky growled.

"You ever fall out of a tree? You get all kinds of bruises."

"Ones that are rather like a handprint?" Steve pinned Tony with an unimpressed, unconvinced look.

"Dad tried to catch me before I hit the ground, didn’t get quite a good enough grip."

Bucky ground his teeth again, readying to really get into this, but suddenly Steve’s posture relaxed, so obviously ‘stand down’ that Bucky did the same. (Again, ingrained. Steve led, Bucky followed.)

"Alright. We’ll let you get back to your work."

Tony eyed them for a moment, that suspicious mask in place, then shrugged, flashed a grin, and turned away.

When Bucky asked Steve why he’d dropped it, Steve had simply said, “He’s not going to talk about it until he wants to. Pushing… it’s not going to do anything good for this.”

And since when did Steve get good at the whole relationship thing, huh? Bucky almost thought to be jealous over it, except he had Steve now (had Steve again? His memories weren’t too clear on that, even now) so it was a waste of energy.

"Fine," he muttered and Steve pulled him into one of those soft comforting kisses that always made him feel a little less lost in his own head.

~*~*~*~

Bucky couldn’t sleep. It was a bad night, and Steve was with the Clint and Natasha on some mission – S.H.I.E.L.D. might be gone, but there was Tony’s Spy Business, all privatized and whatnot. Steve… didn’t necessarily approve, but he understood the need for it.

It was hard to tell sometimes what was actual memory and what was horrified imagining. Sometimes the memories felt like dreams, and sometimes they felt too sharp, too real, like he was reliving them.

He stared at his hands, and he could remember blood staining them. He could remember the feel of a throat crushing under his metal hand. He could remember not feeling a damned thing, and it left him shaking and numb.

"You look like shit."

Tony didn’t look like much himself, with bags under his eyes and grease in his hair. Bucky watched as he walked over and settled on the couch with Bucky, leaning against the arm and resting one foot against Bucky’s thigh. The other tucked underneath Tony, and his toes wiggled against Bucky. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

It felt like he’d forgotten how to talk. His mouth felt sealed shut, his throat stiff and thick. He shrugged, still staring at Tony.

Tony, who nodded and spoke, “I just finished inventing what’s going to be the new and improved Stark tablet. I’ll give it to Phil to test, maybe Pepper too but she gets all weird about testing tech before it’s seen R&D.” He hummed. "Darcy, maybe, since Natasha isn't around to give me a death glare for it." He stretched, slumping down further and pushing his foot more firmly against Bucky’s thigh. It felt warm.

"The other week," he said suddenly. "Sorry for being an ass."

Bucky shrugged again. Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away out the big windows across the room.

"…I don’t know what you remember of him. Steve… made some mentions, back when we first met." Tony shook his head. "Whoever he was back then, he wasn’t that man later in life. He… was cold, calculating. He…" Tony blew out a sharp breath. One arm was folded over his stomach, the other curled up and tapping out a beat on his reactor. "Dad didn’t have much patience, and I was an annoying brat of a kid. Too mouthy for my own good, too smart and too dumb all at once. Ended up on the wrong side of his hand more than once," he muttered, sinking down more. His other foot slid out and tucked under Bucky’s leg instead.

"I didn’t fall out of a tree. Howard didn’t break my arm, he…" Tony’s mouth set. "I fell down the stairs. I’d made him mad again, and he’d been yelling at me and shook me a bit by the arm, and I ran off and tripped and fell down the stairs. He didn’t break my arm."

Bucky - god, he wished he wasn’t so fucked up right in that moment because he should be saying something, he needed to say something. Tony needed him to say something, even if Tony didn’t realize it yet.

But his throat was still closed, his mouth still firmly not working, words unable to form.

Bucky curled his hand around Tony’s ankle and squeezed - carefully.

Tony slumped a little more, sighing. “Mom told them I fell out of the tree because it seemed smarter than even implying there was anything wrong at home. A kid falling down the stairs is suspicious; out of a tree? What little boy hasn’t done that?”

And Bucky… well, he still couldn’t make himself talk, but the rest of his mind was less focused on the memories, more focused on Tony. He sighed impatiently - soundlessly, it was hard to make any sound on these types of days - and reached out, tugging Tony upright and into his side. Tony was stiff for several minutes before he relaxed in small increments.

Bucky squeezed the back of his neck and - like he’d thought it might - almost all the rest of his tension slipped away. Tony buried his face against Bucky’s shoulder.

"We should probably both go to bed," he mumbled.

Bucky rolled his eyes and twisted until he was reclined along the length of the couch, Tony on top of him.

"Or this." Tony yawned. "This works too."

Smiling, Bucky closed his eyes and listened to Tony’s breathing mellow out, steady inhale-exhale, the occasional indecipherable sleep mumble. He didn’t sleep, but he did drift close to it.

He barely opened his eyes when he heard someone approaching, relaxing once he caught sight of Steve tiptoeing by. Twenty minutes later - a shower, pajamas, the shield stashed in the closet - Steve came back just as quietly and settled down on the floor, leaning against the couch. Bucky dropped his right arm from Tony’s back and tangled his fingers with Steve’s.

"You two alright?" Steve whispered so quietly only their enhanced hearing could catch it.

Bucky tilted his head a bit. Steve rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand in concern. His eyes ran over Bucky, then Tony. That small furrow between his brows appeared - ‘I am concerned but don’t want to push.’

"You better, at least?"

Bucky swallowed - it felt like it tried to stick in his throat, to choke him, but he fought past it - and licked dry lips. “Yeah,” he whispered, voice almost cracking even with barely any sound put into it.

Steve lifted his hand and kissed the knuckles. “Get some sleep Buck. I’ve got you.”

Nodding, Bucky closed his eyes and focused on the warmth of Tony on top of him and Steve’s hand wrapped around his, lips still brushing his skin.

It was easy to sleep after that.


	18. You want me to WHAT?

Pepper walked into the kitchen and Bucky inwardly sat to attention, side-eying her. It wasn’t that he didn’t like or trust her; he respected the shit out of her. But Pepper click-click-clicking her way into their quarters never meant _fun_ times. He kept eating his cereal, half an eye on her as she made a cup of coffee and took a seat across from him at the table.

Bucky watched her speculatively, raising a brow in question when she looked straight at him.

She gave him the smile Tony called her ‘I’m being nice _now_ ' smile.

"Sgt. Barnes."

"Ms. Potts."

She folded her hands on the table in front of her, coffee just to her right. “Tony has a fundraiser event that he must go to Friday night.”

He thought about it, chewing slowly. “Think he mentioned something about that.”

Her smile turned up a bit, completely charming. Bucky waited for her to get to her point.

"You need to attend with him."

"Excuse me?" He froze, spoon halfway from his bowl.

She ignored that, pulling a card from her purse and sliding it across the table towards him. He eyed it but didn’t reach for it at all.

"I’ve set you up with an appointment for tomorrow, with Tony’s tailor. He’ll have something ready by then."

"What."

She gave him a smile and a look he’d only ever seen her offer to Tony, part judgmental, part fond. He fought off the urge to shift uncomfortably even as he made sure no part of him (such as the Winter Soldier) felt threatened by this woman.

At least, not threatened enough to make an appearance. As Steve had said, only morons dared mess with Pepper Potts.

"You can’t be seen there in jeans and a t-shirt, Sgt. Barnes. You’ll have to look your best, and that means a good suit."

"You want me to _what_?”

She sighed. “I don’t see why I need to repeat myself here.”

"No," he denied, leaning forward. "I get it, you want me there in a monkey suit, but _why_?”

"You need to generate some good press. The event is very important, a good cause, and if you are seen there, looking the part of upstanding citizen, seen with the right people, we’ll get some good publicity going for you."

Bucky continued to eye her, wondering if she was crazy. “I don’t give a… I don’t care about my publicity.”

"Perhaps not." She took a sip of her coffee, eying him over the rim and maintaining eye contact as she put it down. "But Tony’s has taken a pretty big hit the last year or so, with the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and what he’s trying to do to clean up the mess. Especially since he’s allowed the infamous Winter Soldier to stay in his Tower. People are making accusations, questioning him. It looks bad, and no one really ever sees you so all they have are past events. Your past doesn’t look pretty, doesn’t make a good impression."

She leaned forward, voice low and intent. “Sgt. Barnes, Tony has never given a damn about the press and what they say. He’s been dealing with them too long to care. It was my job to keep him from looking too bad, and I still think of it as my job to make sure as little bad press affects SI as possible. Right now, we’re not looking good. I want to fix that. If Tony is seen not only at this fundraiser, but with _you_ there, looking and acting like a good, upstanding citizen, one that can be trusted and seen as a sympathetic character, we can start turning this around. All you have to do is show up, look good, and turn on that charm I hear you’re known for.”

"Known for, huh?" he murmured.

Her lips twitched. “I hear things.”

He scoffed, softly, but leaned back and folded his arms. “I don’t do well with crowds.”

"I understand. I chose this event because it’s a lower traffic one. There will be a lot of people, but it’s the best I can do for you."

"And this is to help Tony."

She nodded. “As well as the Avengers as a whole.”

He sighed. “And I _have_ to wear the suit?”

A sly look slid over her face, piquing Bucky’s interest. “Yes. Just imagine Tony’s reaction when he sees… He’s always enjoyed the sight of a well-dressed individual.”

Bucky mulled it over, sighed, and gave a single nod. “Alright. Fine.”

"Thank you, Sgt. Barnes. If you have any questions, just ask JARVIS to contact me."

He nodded, looking back to his cereal, letting her walk out of the kitchen and back to wherever she went when she wasn’t dictating his life.

~*~*~

"Holy fuck," Tony said loudly, making a few people around him laugh good-naturedly.

Steve grinned, hands in his pockets and head ducked down. He looked up at Bucky through his eyelashes, all bashful, laughing delight. “You look good, Buck.”

"Who put you up to this? I need to give them a raise."

Bucky snorted. “Pepper.”

Steve gave him a sympathetic nod.

Tony was eying him up and down, not even bothering to disguise the hungry look. Bucky swallowed, made sure he looked relaxed and calm and not like he was tracking each person that came within ten feet and all the exits.

"I’m sure it wasn’t because I’d love the sight of you in a suit," Tony suddenly said, eyes sharp on Bucky. "So she probably wants some publicity."

His eyes slid behind Bucky, moving over the crowd before lighting on someone and pulling up a bright grin that looked wide but didn’t touch the corners of his eyes.

"Ah, the lovely Mrs. Nadia Clarkson. Have you met my colleagues?" Bucky stood there and watched as Tony did a balancing act of flattery and sincerity, telling the woman about what SI was up to lately, what he was trying to do to restore some balance to America’s intelligence agencies, how "Captain Rogers has been instrumental in that, making sure it’s done right this time, with no evil Nazi’s hiding in the shadows," and getting her to laugh.

His hand slid warm over Bucky’s back. “And I’m sure you’ve heard of Sgt. Bucky Barnes.”

"I have," she said, keeping her distance and eying Bucky with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Tony clapped Bucky on the shoulder, leaning just a bit against him and towards the woman conspiratorially, making her unconsciously lean closer as well.

"We’ve been helping him recover. The things HYDRA did under the cover of S.H.I.E.L.D.…" He sounded sympathetic, almost pitying, and just a bit of some kind of gossipy horrified. Nadia Clarkson looked far less apprehensive and more curious now. Bucky tried not to stiffen up under the way Tony was talking or her now assessing look.

"I had heard rumors…"

Tony nodded. “Yes. This is his first time out among crowds of people, I’m sure you can understand how traumatic it was to finally be freed again so we were taking it slow.”

Her eyes settled on him, just pitying, and Bucky kept his face carefully neutral. Whatever game Tony was doing right then… he didn’t want to mess it up, but he was feeling the need to hit him.

"How are you finding things then?"

Charming, Pepper had told him. He pulled up a grin and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m constantly lost,” he admitted. “But things sure are bright nowadays.”

She laughed. “Yes, yes they are.” Her hand patted at his arm and he didn’t pull away like he wanted to. “And tonight?”

"Everyone seems to be really nice," he said, pulling out a bit of Brooklyn accent. "Been real understanding about my being outta depth."

She smiled, linked an arm with him and tugging him after her. He shot a quick, panicked look back, but Tony just waved him off and Steve grimaced and shrugged.

"You just have to meet…"

Bucky glared until Tony stepped after them quickly, his grin smoothly shifting from laughing at Bucky to apologetic for Nadia Clarkson.

"I’m so sorry, dear, but he’s still uneasy around people he doesn’t know. We want to make sure he’s got some support, stays close to one of us."

She blinked then smiled. “Oh, of course.”

"But do feel free to send anyone who wants to talk to us over, we promise not to bite." Tony winked and she giggled.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Bucky said through a smile, “I’m going to get you for that.”

"Pepper wants good publicity, Nadia Clarkson is the woman with all the gossip. Thirty minutes and everyone here will be hearing about how sweet you are and how tragic it is that HYDRA hurt you."

"I am _not_ taking any _pity_ -“

"Press, Bucky. It’s not fun but it works." He paused, then offered just a bit hesitantly, "Would a dance make up for that?"

Bucky eyed him. “I lead.”

Tony smiled, a quick there-and-gone sincere one that was replaced by the flirtatious fake one. “Sure thing, hot stuff.”

Bucky leaned close, whispering as they walked back over to Steve. “And no fake-flirting when we’re dancing either, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Almost forgot this!)
> 
> So Bucky and Tony totally did the healthy thing and talked about this situation. Bucky told Tony why it made him uncomfortable, and Tony explained why he did it (and was horrified that Bucky might even think Tony thought of him like that; Bucky knew he didn't but it didn't make it any better). Tony promised not to do it again, except the dance part because Bucky liked that.
> 
> Then, because this is them we're talking about, Bucky spent a few days stealing Tony's coffee whenever he wasn't looking as revenge.


	19. Bonus Drabble 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> moon asked for "Tony having an overload of thought breakdown before Bucky and/or Steve figure out how to help (the privacy thing with Bucky where he said he needed quiet from his own thoughts; like...him not getting that quiet from his own thoughts because of reasons)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday was hectic, and I forgot to post a chapter, I'm sorry. You'll get a second one later today though.

Tony kept running his fingers through his hair.

He might have been tugging on it a bit, but not badly. Just a small sharp pain that made him focus, for just a minute, on something other than all the other things he had to think about.

The Board wanted something new - completely new, not just a greater and better version of things already out there. Something no one else had, which was cool, Tony loved a challenge, except they wanted it in three weeks and that was… possible if Tony didn’t sleep.

Then there were the missions and whatnot that had to do with No-Longer-Tony’s Secret Spy Business - actually, he wasn’t even sure he could remember what Pepper had ended up naming it, something about Information, Tony should probably learn that because Phil was in charge now and it wasn’t Tony’s except it was still in his building and run through his company and that meant that as well as needing to actually go out there sometimes (more times, now that he wasn’t running things thank god), he had to deal with the politicians.

They wanted him to come to this hearing to discuss the people he’d hired (namely the Winter Soldier, which was why Tony had very carefully kept Bucky off of all employment records. It’d been a tricky afternoon of loopholes and legalese and carefully worded documents that basically said Bucky worked with them but not for them and they didn’t pay him so no one could stop him from volunteering his services). They wanted Tony for power over others, they wanted power over Tony, they wanted him to manipulate and control Captain America and the Avengers and feed them information before others got it.

The suit needed to be upgraded - that last mission had ended with a blown-out thruster and Tony hated falling to the ground, it sucked, badly - and Natasha needed something better than the gun she was currently using, which might have actually been one of his from his Weapons Era, but he could do better. Clint had mentioned this idea for his bow, Tony needed to look into that. Darcy wanted to get together for drinks, and Rhodey had leave, and Tony wanted to introduce them because as Rhodey had so kindly pointed out, Tony had _actual friends_ that weren’t Rhodey and Pepper now, which had been weird to realize and-

"Tony?"

He tugged at his hair, letting out a sharp breath, he’d pulled too hard, dropped his hands into his lap and turned to smile brightly at… Steve? Yeah, Steve.

"What can I do you for Cap?"

"Bucky told you about dinner two hours ago."

Two hours? Oh. Oops. Two hours. And he’d gotten exactly nothing done, two hours wasted, he didn’t have _time_ to waste doing nothing, let alone eating-

"Oh. Not hungry," he shrugged, turning back to his desk and pulling up the half-finished schematics for a gun he’d thought up before he’d quit weapons and left it be because with the suit he hadn’t needed it - though maybe he should have made it anyway, seriously, how had he never considered not having the suit around and still needing protection, he was an _idiot_ -

"Tony!"

Tony looked over, frowning. Steve was staring with wide-eyes, concern obvious, having taken half a step forward.

"What?"

"I… Your hand."

Tony looked down. He carefully let go of the arm rest and grimaced as it hung at an awkward angle.

He’d need to fix that, probably be easier just to get another chair honestly but this one was broken in and comfortable and he’d rather keep it but he didn’t have the time, but did a broken handle really matter that much and damn it he didn’t have _time for this_.

He was trying to work on three different things at once to make up for lost time, and because his mind couldn’t settle and it kept trying to go off on new ideas - what if he made a gun for Darcy that could - oooh, hey, maybe he could trick her and Natasha into going on a second honeymoon that he paid for as saying it was a vacation - could he force employees on vacation? Pepper would know - shit, what day was it, JARVIS was supposed to remind him when she needed him to-

"Alright, Tony, hey, stop." Bucky’s metal fingers were cool, unyielding as they pried Tony’s hand away from his mouth where he’d been chewing on a thumb, oops. But then his eyes caught on the arm and his mind flew off on a couple ideas for upgrades and maybe there was a way to make it more seamlessly connected - he’d done the best technology was capable of but if he could just figure out how to-

"Hey." Bucky snapped flesh-fingers in front of Tony’s eyes. Tony wondered if the metals ones could still do that, he’d have to ask, wasn’t important, needed to focus-

"I’m fine," he croaked. He couldn’t remember Bucky getting here. Or how he’d ended up on the couch for that matter, he was pretty sure he hadn’t been the one to walk away from his work, he had too much to-

"Bullshit. You’re scaring us. What’s wrong."

"Nothing, I’m fine, got work to do, I need to work, I have to-"

"Breathe," Steve said calmly from behind Bucky, watching them with steady eyes and was this what he’d looked like, this was never how Tony had imagined him when Howard had talked about him, but maybe if he could remember some of Peggy’s rare stories better this would be what she’d talk about, determined and kind and steady and-

He sucked in a breath and let it out. That was nice so he did it again.

"I have things to do. I have to, I need to, I-"

He growled, grabbing his hair and tugging. Sharp pain, momentary clarity.

"Really, I have so _much_ …” He pulled harder, but Bucky’s hand again carefully pried his away from him. This time he held both of Tony’s hands firmly between his own.

"You look like you’re about to break out of your own skin."

"Tony." Steve stepped forward, crouching down next to Bucky. Put him just a few inches taller than both of them, that was a change, except when he was in the suit. He needed to upgrade the suit, what if there was a mission, wait, they’d had to put the next mission on standby until Tony dealt with that asshole in Congress-

"Tony."

His eyes snapped back to Steve’s, and it was Captain America for just a few moments, which reminded Tony that he had almost had a breakthrough with the costume, shit, he’d written that down somewhere, where was, JARVIS would know-

"-strip naked."

"What?"

Bucky looked at Steve with a ‘told you so’ look.

"No, go back, that sounded interesting, but no, wait, I need to-"

"Talk to us," Steve interrupted, finished for Tony. Except Tony hadn’t been going to say that, but they were not moving and he was losing time and-

"What, what do you want me to say, I, I don’t know-" He tugged at his hands, unthinking, and Bucky’s grip tightened just a little.

"What’s wrong, Tony?" he murmured, bringing their hands to his lips, brushing them over where their fingers tangled. "You’re scaring us."

"I, I can’t, I can’t -" Think, focus, figure out what to do first.

"Hey, it’s okay. Just… how can we help?"

"Turn off my brain," Tony muttered sourly.

Steve and Bucky exchanged looks. Tony found himself trying to analyze their facial expressions, trying to figure out what they were saying and that distracted his brain for a bit from everything else which was nice but wasting time, he was wasting time with them when-

"Whoa, hey, what are you - _Bucky Barnes you put me back down right the fuck now I swear to all that is good in this world including Steve fucking Rogers-“_

"Shut up, Tony." Bucky said. He was calm as he kept carting Tony out of the lab over his shoulder, his hand dangerously close to copping a feel.

"Hey, Darcy, can you cancel Tony’s appointments for-"

"Steve Rogers, stop that! I can damned well go to any meetings responsibly-"

"Thanks, I think he needs the time off."

"I do not!"

Steve and Bucky both ignored him, pausing as they stepped into the elevator. “His floor?”

"Nah, he’ll find some way to wiggle loose."

"Well then what about-"

"We could-"

"We can’t just lock him in the-"

"Why not, then he won’t go back and drive himself crazy by-"

Tony huffed. “Can you hurry it up or let me go? This isn’t exactly comfortable.”

"Hey, JARVIS, how did Pepper handle him like this?"

"That’s not really appropriate, Bucky," Steve scolded.

"Can it, Steve. JARVIS?"

"Ms. Potts rarely had as much success at removing Sir from excessive stimuli as you have. I would suggest keeping him away from anything that will further encourage him to work."

"JARVIS, you are a dirty, no good traitor."

Except JARVIS wasn’t because Tony had programmed Steve and Bucky to have as much control in the systems as he did and so really JARVIS was now allowed to pick favorites.

It was just that Tony figured he should still be that favorite, seeing as he was the one to make JARVIS and all. But no, JARVIS seemed to have some buddy-buddy friendship with Bucky.

"Alright then. My floor, J."

"Of course, Master James."

Tony grumbled at Bucky’s back and then got distracted when he heard a sound as the elevator moved and he should look into that, fix whatever that was, was it possible to make the damned thing run faster, or would that break some regulation, Tony really needed to refresh his memory on building codes and-

"Stop it." Bucky gave Tony a little shake on his shoulder, stepping out onto his floor.

"Can you- oomf!" Bucky dropped Tony onto the couch, but before Tony could get up again Steve was there and pulling Tony into his lap.  
Which was, quite honestly, a good distraction.

"Oh, hello." Tony leered and wiggled. "How’re you tonight, Soldier?"

"Tony," Steve sighed, but he was smiling a bit so he wasn’t mad which was good, Tony hated when he was mad, it was worse than Pepper being mad, though that had been bad, like when he’d been making all the suits-

Bucky’s hand gently swatted the back of his head as he joined them, pushing a drink into Tony’s hands. He sipped it curiously because it looked like coffee but it wasn’t, it was minty chocolate.

"This isn’t coffee, I can’t work if I’m not-"

"The point is to shut your brain off, not wire you up further," Bucky stated. "Drink it."

Tony made a face, kept drinking. It was good, hit his stomach and the warmth spread out everywhere. Steve’s palm was rubbing up and down his spine, and that was nice, and Tony didn’t even realize he’d finished the hot chocolate and listed sideways until Bucky started to move away.

"No," he muttered. "No, don’ go."

"Alright, I’m right here." Bucky’s hand squeezed Tony’s neck, then carded through his hair. Softly, gently, not pulling like Tony had earlier. It did not make Tony focus. It made everything blur together and Steve’s hand was still warm as it pressed firmly between his shoulders down to the base of his spine and back up.

"Gonna tell us what that was about?" Steve’s voice was low, warm, right in Tony’s ear and hinting towards that Brooklyn accent he’d been trained to hide at some point.

"Couldn’t stop thinking," he muttered. "Too many things to do, too many ideas, couldn’t focus."

"So focus on us," Bucky suggested. "We’re right here, okay? Focus on us entirely."

"Okay," Tony yawned. And he did. He focused on their breathing and how it almost matched up, and unconsciously started trying to match his to that space between. The steady pressure of Steve’s hand going up and down and soothing tense muscles, and of Bucky’s fingers through his hair, sometimes brushing against the top of his ear which tickled but only in the vaguest sense. The smell of them both, the warmth on all sides, the extra-soft murmur that they spoke in when they only wanted each other to hear.

"Sleep, Tony. We’ve got you."

Tony finally managed to turn off.


	20. Everything's going to be fine

No one was daring to come close to Bucky.

And why would they, when he’d fucked up so spectacularly? If not for him, things might have been different.

Someone walked by the door.

Bucky realized he was holding one of his knives and loosened his grip, though he couldn’t bring himself to put it away again.

No one was daring to come close to Bucky.

He got up and left the common room, where they’d spread out to review and plan. No one stopped him.

On his floor, he grabbed his tablet off the kitchen counter and tapped it, preparing to hack into the files only to be granted access. JARVIS. Bucky wondered for a moment why JARVIS was letting him get to them when he _knew_ none of the rest of the team had access. It wasn’t important just then (though it might be later, if for some reason JARVIS was slipping or… Bucky didn’t know, betraying Tony as insane as it sounded.)

He pulled up the files, the schematics, the data that Tony wasn’t technically supposed to have access to but did anyway thanks to his lack of regard for rules and Darcy.

Bucky’s mess. His mistake, his to fix.

The others were _Avengers_ , high profile and viewed under varying degrees of suspicion. They couldn’t go off the grid and take care of this problem, not without consequences, but Bucky could, for the most part. Maybe. It was hard to forget Pepper insisting just a few weeks ago that he had to improve his PR or the others' would suffer more.

"You know, we’re going to find him."

He looked over; Tony shrugged away from the door frame and walked over with his hands in his pockets, a bruise bright and fresh across his cheek, one of his fingers swollen. Tony didn’t grin, but his smile was that arrogant, fake one.

Bucky turned back to his work.

Tony sighed. Moments later Bucky went still as he felt Tony lean against his back, face burying against his shoulder. “We’ll get him back.” His hands closed over Bucky’s hips. “We will, I promise. But… you can’t run off on us, not now, we need you.”

The words came slow and rough, but Bucky managed to get them out (improvement, Steve’d probably call it). “S’my fault.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, no, I’m blaming the AIM goons myself. And I was supposed to have destroyed them all, not sure you heard about that, so we could argue  
this is my fault.”

"Stop it," Bucky said, frowning. "You-"

"Neither are you."

Bucky sighed. Why did he have to fall for the stupidly stubborn ones?

"I was supposed to be there. I was supposed to back him up and I-"

"Forgot you were on a team?" He felt Tony smile against his shoulder. "Yeah. Been there, done that. Hard habit to break, isn’t it?"

Bucky shook his head, but he did dismiss the files on his tablet and twist around to pull Tony into his chest. Tony’s hair smelled like that expensive shampoo he liked; Bucky didn’t care about the sweat and grime neither of them had bothered to wash off (he didn’t think any of the team had, actually). He held Tony there for a good minute, fighting for some kind of control that he’d lost.

"Steve’s tough, I wouldn’t be surprised if he beat them all up before we even got there," Tony muttered. "And you know he’s gonna get that look on his face if he finds out you were about to leave us all to go it alone."

Bucky grimaced. “I think he does it on purpose.”

Tony laughed. It was a bit hoarse, edging towards unbalanced. “Thing is, we’ve got this plan, JARVIS said it’s got a good chance of success, but only if you’re there.”

"The probability of success drops fifteen percent without Master James."

"I get it, I’ll stay. Are the others okay-"

"Natasha is the one that told me to make sure you didn’t fly the coop."

Bucky rolled his eyes, muttering, but Tony only slumped into him more. Neither of them were holding the other like they had been. It was just a sharing of space, of using the other to hold both of them upright.

"The… I lost it out there today," Bucky admitted. "I got… too focused, I didn’t even hear him ask me for backup, I wasn’t thinking. Tony, I was just…"

"Mm. So we’ll work on it." He shrugged. "No one expects you to throw all of that programming and shit off in a year-ish. No one blames you."

"But Steve’s-"

"Everything’s going to be fine," Tony said firmly, pulling back to almost glare at Bucky. He met the stare straight-on, noting that Tony really believed what he was saying. His mouth was set, his eyes narrowed, heated, his jaw firm. "We’re going to kick AIM’s ass, get Steve back, and eat a shit-ton of Chinese food when we get home. If it goes well we can probably be back in time for movie night, and I’ll even watch whatever kids’ movie Darcy thinks you all need to know about without complaining."

Bucky’s lips twitched. “And wouldn’t that be a miracle?”

"Oh shut up." Tony turned, took a few steps, and paused. He hesitated before holding his hand back. "Coming? The whole planning thing would be easier if all of us were up there."

Bucky took Tony’s hand, carefully. Tony didn’t initiate a lot of contact normally,even after so many months together. He knew why Tony had been doing it down here though, and he appreciated it. “Alright. Let’s get Steve back.”

"I swear if he frees himself and all this effort went to waste I’m going to hit him with his own shield."

Bucky laughed; Tony looked over at him. “I’m not kidding, Barnes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, they've been going out for four or five months at this point, so Bucky's been back with Steve for just about a year, give or take. :)


	21. That's a good look for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm off to Chico for the day. Long trip. *sigh* And not just drive-wise.

Bucky whistled, low and long, earning a glare from Tony.

"That’s a good look for you."

"Shut it, Barnes."

Steve was grinning, as calm as anything, still pinning Tony to the floor of the workshop. There was a smudge of grease across his brow, and it was all over his hands, obviously from Tony. Who was practically covered in it.

"I meant underneath Steve. What did you do, roll around the guts of a car?"

Tony did that excessively dramatic eye roll. Bucky was almost positive he only ever did it when he didn’t want to show he was half a second from smiling or laughing.

Coming over and crouching before the two, Bucky reached out and ran his fingers through Tony’s hair. The metal came away black-smeared.

"You know it’s probably not a good hair gel right? I mean obviously it hides the grey-"

"I will bite you," Tony said, eyes and tone serious.

Bucky grinned widely. “Promise?”

For a moment, Tony looked uncertain, like Bucky had thrown him with that. It was moments like that, where Tony didn’t look all cocky and assured like he usually did that Bucky both loved and hated. Loved because it meant Tony was willing to drop the act for them. Hated because it usually meant Tony was feeling insecure or cautious, still, even after almost six months.

Steve tsked. “Stop messing with him, Buck.” The tone was light, the look was not. Bucky met Steve’s eyes, and nodded with an easy smile. Right; no pressuring the flight-risk boyfriend.

"It’s late," he said instead of continuing with the teasing. Even though it had been promising. "JARVIS said you had nothing important enough to do one of those sleepless night things."

"That’s why I was down here," Steve said wryly. "I was trying to get him upstairs."

Bucky raised a brow, looking at them both on the floor and then over his shoulder at the doorway. “Is that what this was.”

"Tony’s bots tripped me up."

All three of them glanced over to the couch. Dum-E quickly ducked down, like he could hide back there. The other two drooped to look as pathetic as possible.

When Bucky looked back over, Tony was grinning widely. It lit up his entire face, crinkling his eyes and looking so genuine it always made Bucky smile in response.

"Well. You’ve got me as backup now. I think between the two of us and JARVIS we can get Tony to a shower, at least."

"Right here!" A moment, and then, "And what do you mean JARVIS, he’s my AI, I made him, he can’t take sides against me, I’m sure I programmed that as a rule somewhere…”

Bucky grabbed one of Tony’s arms and hauled him up as Steve rose (and wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist). Tony waved over his shoulder at the bots and wished them a good night. Bucky chuckled as Steve smiled over and waved too.

"As much as I enjoy this grease-monkey mechanic look for you, Stark, you’re gonna have to wash up if you want in bed with us."

Tony eyed him for a moment, not entirely suspiciously. It was playful enough that Bucky kept smiling, glancing at him teasingly.

"Well when put like _that_ …” Tony sighed.

"Steve has to shower too," Bucky pointed out.

Tony looked over, noting the grease on Steve’s face and hands and got what was a downright devious look on his face. Purposefully, he brought his hands up and dragged them over Bucky’s neck and collarbone.

"Oops."

"Guess you have to shower now, as well," Steve grinned.

"And we better conserve water too, there’s a drought isn’t there, or wait, is that California…? Pepper was talking about a drought and needing to conserve water, we should do that."’

Steve was grinning, unabashed, and Bucky looked down to hide the fact that he was chuckling noiselessly.

"Sure Tony," Steve agreed. "It’s not like your shower isn’t big enough."

"Damn straight."


	22. It's never too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I imagine this takes place about... nine months or so? Into their relationship. So that means it's been about a year and a half of Bucky living at the Tower. I know, I know. Bit of a time-jumping going on between some chapters, while others all take place in the same month...

Steve was, admittedly, the most stable of the three of them. Bucky was all but an unexplored minefield of triggers and guilt issues, while Tony had enough self-worth and trust issues to last a couple lifetimes.

But Steve… he had days that weren’t so great too.

~*~*~*~

The first Tony heard about it was Bucky coming into his workshop just after ten in the morning.

"I already ate breakfast. I mean, it was a couple hours ago admittedly, but I did eat."

Bucky just did that sort-of smirk at him, unconvinced. He crossed his arms and hitched a hip against Tony’s work table. “Oh really. What was it?”

"…What?" Tony peered up at him finally, instead of just glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

"What. Did you. Eat?"

"…A bagel." Tony eyed him. "Are you laughing at me? You’re laughing at me."

Bucky shrugged, not answering either way. After a moment his smirk fell, though, and he straightened. Tony responded to the change by twisting his seat so he was facing Bucky head on and sitting upright.

"What’s wrong?"

"I think," Bucky said slowly, "It’d be a good day to stay out of the lab. Do you have anything that you have to work on today?"

Tony glanced at his projects, then at the screen closest to him. “JARVIS, schedule.” It came up promptly, and he knew with just a quick glance he was good. The next project due wasn’t until the end of the week, and he only had a bit of tweaking and final testing left for it.

He stood up, shutting everything down with a gesture that Jarvis knew how to interpret, and followed Bucky upstairs. He didn’t know what was going on - not yet - but he trusted the other wouldn’t be acting like this for anything less than an emergency.

Steve was curled up on the couch, a blanket around his shoulders and another folded over his lap. He stared ahead sightlessly.

Tony sucked in a breath.

"He’s… pretty out of it," Bucky murmured. It was just barely at the edge of Tony’s hearing. He figured it was so that Steve wouldn’t hear - if he could which at this point Tony kind of doubted - from where they stood in the hallway.

"How long?"

"Since I got up," Bucky admitted.

"He wasn’t here when I woke up. That was at six." He felt Bucky’s concerned glance but waved it off, eyes still focused on Steve. "You’ve been…?"

"Eight. I came out here at eight and found him like this."

So it’d been about two hours at least, four at most. Tony nodded briskly. “He talk?”

"Nah, he’s been unresponsive to anything I’ve tried." He sighed heavily. "I… he’d have bad days, when we were fighting." Bucky frowned, trying to tease the memory more clearly to the front of his mind. "I think… I think he’d get quiet, reclusive, but not like this…"

Tony nodded, tapping at the arc reactor with brows furrowed in thought. “Alright. Alright,” he repeated. “You make excellent coffee, why don’t you try your skills at hot chocolate. I’ll see if I can’t…” He started forward, not waiting for Bucky’s agreement.

Carefully, Tony crouched in front of Steve. The blond stared right past him, through him even. “Hey, Cap,” Tony called softly. “You in there?”

Very, very slowly Tony reached out to touch Steve’s knee. He didn’t react.

"I need you to talk to me Steve. Gotta tell me what’s going through your head, I can’t read minds."

Nothing. Tony sighed and gently rubbed circles into Steve’s thigh with his thumb. It was intimate, and a part of him was vaguely uncomfortable with that, but this was Steve.

Bucky appeared, making enough noise that Tony could hear him though he knew it wasn’t for his sake. He sat down next to Steve, touching his shoulder as he did, and pried one hand loose of the death-grip on the blanket it had. He curled the fingers around the mug, Steve’s favorite, the brightly colored Snoopy mug, and then helped support it until he was sure Steve wasn’t going to drop it.

They exchanged a look, Bucky looking just a bit helpless and worried, and Tony firmed himself to fix this because that’s what he did - he fixed things. (And fucked them up; he hoped that wouldn’t be the case this time.)

"Hey, Steve, are you cold?" he asked, eyes latching speculatively onto the blankets. He made his voice loud and firm, instead of the gentle quiet one he’d been using.

Steve blinked, and - very stiffly and slowly - nodded. Just once, one dip of his head, but it was enough.

"Alright. JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Can you heat it up in- actually, no, turn up the heat in my room." He caught Bucky’s questioning brow. "If he came here…" He shrugged, looking down as he stood. "He could have stayed in his room. I mean, I know we all kind of end up here throughout the day but he could have…"

"Good thinking," Bucky said, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist and somewhat hoisting him to his feet (which were covered in thick socks, Tony noticed). "Come on, punk, let’s go crash in the billionaire’s bed."

Tony rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t already do that every few nights.”

"You’ve got a better mattress," Bucky grinned over his shoulder.

Tony snorted, stepping ahead to lead the way. He pushed the door open, undoing his pants and shoving them off as he stepped in. It was already warm, warmer than he’d like it to be, but watching Steve from the corner of his eye he thought he caught a slight loosening in Steve’s expression. Bucky must have noticed it too because he let out one of those soundless sighs.

"Drink up, I didn’t make that hot chocolate for it to go to waste."

Steve immediately took a sip, and then kept sipping at it every time he started to lower it, like he’d thought better of stopping. Tony dug in his closet until he found one of those thicker blankets that Pepper had stashed in there, back when they’d still been together and the weather had been turning from cold to warm.

"Hop in bed, Cap," Tony said, trying to sound somewhat cheerful at least. Bucky gently pried the mug from Steve, murmuring something to him too quiet for Tony to catch, and set it on the bedside table before ushering him onto the bed, climbing up behind him.

Steve immediately curled into Bucky, shivering.

"Here you go, Steve, let’s get this wrapped around you." Tony was worried, not that he’d admit it, as he tucked the blanket around Steve. He locked the door and quietly told JARVIS to warn the others off if they came looking for any of them but not to give an explanation.

They’d probably figure it was Tony or Bucky. Tony was fine with that and was sure Bucky didn’t care either. Especially not if it meant protecting Steve. If he wanted the others to know after, he could tell them, but until then this was between the three of them.

Finally, Tony climbed into the bed and settled on Steve’s other side. He slowly and firmly ran his hand along Steve’s back, wanting to fidget and stilling himself.

(He knew how to keep from fidgeting when he wanted to, he’d perfected that skill a long time ago, but never had he felt it was as important as it was right now. He didn’t want to disturb Steve.)

It was a while before Steve stopped shivering. Tony kept talking the entire time, about anything that came to his mind. Bucky joined in if Tony started to falter, or to make it more of a conversation than a monologue.

They were debating (arguing) over which character of the latest animated movie Darcy had them watching was the most sympathetic when Steve finally moved again. He turned onto his back, reaching up to keep the blanket securely around himself, and blinked sleepily.

"Hey," Bucky murmured, smiling down at Steve and brushing hair off his forehead. "With us?"

Steve hummed vaguely in reply. Tony was just relieved his stare wasn’t so blank anymore, that he was _responding_ period.

"You hungry?"

There were several moments where Tony thought Steve wasn’t going to answer Bucky again, but then he managed a small shake of his head. There was a very tiny furrow between his brows.

"Alright," Tony said when Bucky didn’t. He scooched down the bed a bit so he was more level with Steve and smiled. "But you have to eat dinner. If that’s the rule for me it totally applies to you too."

"Oh is that the case?" Bucky asked in amusement, settling onto his side. He propped his head up on his left arm, so much more comfortable with it than he had been. A part of Tony noted that happily and filed it away for later. "So that rule about how I can’t spend more than six hours in the gym a day? Does that apply to your workshop?"

Tony frowned instantly. “Don’t be ridiculous, I work in there, you just go to the gym to pretend you’re beating yourself up-“

They bickered for a bit, playful and easy. Steve had a small, almost invisible smile on his face when they wound down.

Tony eventually had JARVIS key up a movie, one he knew that Steve liked. (Okay, Tony liked it too, not that he’d admit it. He’d always wanted to be the Dread Pirate Roberts when he was a kid and had still thought of things like that as a means of escape. He’d learned better quickly, but the movie remained his favorite.)

Steve dozed off for a bit, this time curling into Tony. Tony let him, even if he hadn’t known just what to do with his own limbs at first. Bucky had helped, giving one of his soundless laughs, fondness in his eyes as he’d grabbed Tony’s hands and wrapped Tony’s arms around Steve.

"You hungry?" he whispered.

Tony shrugged. “I guess. Why don’t you make something we can call a dinner when he wakes up. It’ll probably be late enough by then to count.”

So Bucky did, heading to the kitchen and searching for cans of soup and things for grilled cheese. He didn’t know if Steve was still feeling cold, but soup should help either way. Comfort food, as his mama had called it.

He only saw Clint, and only for a few moments. The archer saw him in the kitchen, nodded once, and left again without a word. Bucky was… torn between annoyance and comfort, because they were a damned nosy bunch but it was nice to know people so completely had their backs.

When he got back in, Tony started dragging his fingers through Steve’s hair, talking to him quietly and coaxing him awake. It was almost five by then.

They sat in the bed eating, Steve still wrapped up in that blanket Tony had given him plus the sheets pulled over his lap. One of the blankets from the couch had made the trip with them, and that was just visible from under the sheets.

Bucky waited until Steve had finished most of the food before talking.

"Can you tell us what’s up?"

Steve frowned, sighing heavily. He set his spoon down in the bowl with precise care. “I…” He closed his eyes, frown deepening. “It’s all… jumbled.”

Tony hesitantly reached out to touch Steve’s shoulder. “I get that, like you know what it is but can’t make it make sense.”

Steve nodded, glancing at Tony with a slight thankful smile. It made Tony almost beam back.

"It’s just… I feel…. And it’s like I… too late and-" He cut himself off with a sharp breath, closing his eyes and curling into himself, hands buried in and pulling at his hair.

"Hey, hey," Bucky said, reaching out to gently disentangle those fingers. "Careful, Steve, Jesus."

"I don’t know what you think is too late, Steve, but… It’s never too late. I have… I have to believe that.” There was the threat of a break in Tony’s voice, something that would have to be touched on one day, Bucky knew. But that day wasn’t _today_ , because this was about Steve. Steve, who was staring at Tony as if he was imparting the wisdom of life, or important intel before a raid.

Tony took a deep, steadying breath before he kept going. “Whatever you’re thinking? Feeling? There’s no rush. We’re not going anywhere. Well, not unless we need to use the restroom or get food or something. But - you know what I mean. We’re here, whenever you’re up to talking, or not to talking. This? This was fine, if you need this from us…” Tony glanced at Bucky, just a bit desperately.

Bucky smiled, but took mercy and took over, drawing Steve’s focus off of Tony and onto him. “Come on, punk, you know how many times you’ve done this for me over the past year? It’s about time I could return the favor. I get you’re Captain America and gotta be this pillar of perfection or whatever the media wants to paint you as, but with us you’re just Steve Rogers. He’s allowed to not be okay.

"And if he needs a day of lying in bed with his boyfriends, neither of them are gonna complain."

"Have you seen yourself?" Tony muttered. "I’m definitely not complaining about being in bed all day with you."

It got a very small smile out of Steve. It was more than worth it.

Tony cleared away their dishes, setting them and the tray Bucky had used to bring them in outside the door in the hall. When he climbed back into bed, Steve twisted and wiggled until his back was to Bucky.

(Bucky thought, maybe, that he could remember this. Not any clear memory, not the situation itself, but the sensation. Some sensory memory of Steve’s back to his chest, of the protectiveness and helplessness when Steve was hurting and Bucky couldn’t do anything about it.)

The minute Tony was in reach, Steve wrapped a hand softly around his wrist and tugged him in close. He rested his head on Tony’s shoulder, finger reaching out to carefully - after a quick glance up at Tony to ascertain it was okay - trace around the edge of the arc reactor.

Steve didn’t see the strain around Tony’s eyes, but Bucky did. He stretched out a hand to squeeze Tony’s neck, if only for a moment, and watched him close his eyes and breathe out slowly.

"I love the light," Steve croaked quietly. "Reminds me."

Tony didn’t ask of what. Bucky didn’t have to, because Steve had told him once.

"Never got my dance." The admission was quiet, with an almost unnoticed crack in the middle.

Bucky closed his arm around Steve and held tightly, burying his face in the back of Steve’s hair. Tony’s voice was so gentle that Bucky didn’t need to see him to know that it was open and affectionate.

"I’ll take you for one, whenever you want. Just gotta ask, Steve."

Steve sighed, finger stilling from the circular motion and burying his face further into Tony’s shoulder. Bucky felt Tony’s arm settle cautiously near his.

They slept like that through the entire night.


	23. Bonus Drabble 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moon wanted "Bucky showing affection, his way"

Bucky would sling an arm around Steve’s shoulder, pull him in tight and safe, when he was small and things were simpler.

It was Steve. Bucky was always touching Steve in some way - a hand to the shoulder, a full-bodied hug. They were attached at the hip, as Bucky’s Mama used to say. Where Steve went, Bucky always followed.

Bucky going overseas was the first time Bucky went and Steve had to find a way to follow. Steve found him, kept close to him, and when they were once more finally out of sight of everyone, Bucky grabbed onto him and didn’t let go for several minutes.

Because Steve was a damned punk, and now he had the new body to take the bullies on, and he’d gone in there _alone_ for _Bucky_.

Eventually Bucky recovered enough to throw insults at him and drag him off to make sure he knew how to use this ridiculous new body properly, because “No, Steve, fighting is not the same as it was when you were a beanpole, damn it.”

~*~*~*~

Bucky fit his hand over the back of Tony’s neck and squeezed. “Okay, come on you idiot.” He watched Tony go half-lidded and relaxed, directed him out of the workshop and to the elevator.

With a simple tug, he got Tony to lean against his side instead of the wall.

"I have to-"

"It’ll hold, idiot, you need to eat."

Tony huffed. Bucky just kept his hand tight on his neck and moved him to the kitchen and sat him at the table. He was aware that Sam and Steve were just over in the living room, but they weren’t threats, and if he had to remind himself of that a few times it wasn’t as bad as it had been.

Tony yawned. Bucky shook his head and left the grilled cheese for a minute. “When’s the last time you slept, Stark?” He crossed his arms and raised a brow when Tony looked at him.

"I’m-"

"I will ask your AI, you know."

Rolling his eyes, Tony muttered something unintelligible. Bucky kept waiting.

"You’re gonna get mad," Tony whined. "When you get mad you hover for _days_ , Barnes, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.”

Bucky thought about how to phrase it, because Tony reacted strangely sometimes to any signs of care or affection. He plated the grilled cheese, cut it, and slid the plate across the table to Tony. He sat down with only a chair between them.

"I worry when you work yourself like that." He shrugged. "Figure, you take care of us, least I can do is keep you from being too much of an idiot. ‘Sides," he added when Tony looked like he was in the middle of deciding on a fight or flight response. "Kind of a habit, I think. Steve was an idiot, too."

"Can it, Bucky," Steve said calmly from the living room, just loud enough for Tony to hear. Bucky grinned.

"Punk."

"Jerk."

Tony settled with minimal grumbling, finished his sandwich, and let Bucky usher him to his bedroom.

~*~*~*~

He sat with Steve between his legs, leaning against his chest, and kept his arms wrapped tightly around him. Bucky kept up a constant murmur of talk, about the memories he did have so far, about the latest hilarity he’d overheard between Tony and his bots while he’d been in the lab. Every once in a while he’d reach up and scratch his fingers through Steve’s hair.

Steve sighed, twisting until he could bury his face into Bucky’s neck.

He kept talking and touching, giving Steve as much affection as he could.

~*~*~*~

"You are so touchy-feely," Tony grumbled. He leaned into the hug though, almost melting against Bucky, so he knew not to take it as a complaint or insult. Half the stuff that came out of his mouth was just for show, even now.

Well, maybe less than half now. Bucky was looking forward to the day it died down even more.

He ran his hand through Tony’s hair, ending at his neck and giving it his customary squeeze. Tony made a relieved sound.

Steve was watching them, the worry finally dying down. Pepper calling them to say that Tony had left a Board meeting shaking and angry had sent both of them racing to the office he still had nearby hers.

Bucky had coaxed him into a hug. Steve had sneakily taken the glass of alcohol from him.

"Come on, idiot, let’s go back home and you can watch that stupid TV show with Steve."

"No, I need to-"

"Take a break," Bucky interrupted firmly. "I’ll make hot chocolate, but only if you promise to take a break."

"Blackmail," Tony accused, but it was half-hearted and he sighed against Bucky’s shoulder where he’d buried his face. "Fine, fine."

Reluctantly, Bucky let Tony go.

But after he and Steve had gotten Tony settled on the couch, and Bucky had made their hot chocolates, he placed himself right next to Tony, hand rubbing his neck and thighs touching.

Tony sighed, slumping into him, blinking sleepily..

"Thanks."

"Not a problem."


	24. Don't make it into a big deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you guys go. Have a Steve-Bucky moment.

Bucky fell onto the sofa beside Steve, shaking his head. “‘Don’t make it into a big deal,’ he says. ‘It’s just for emergencies, I’ll probably add some restrictions when I have time’ he lies.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “I…”

"You get what he just did, right?" Bucky asked, voice pitched low in case Clint was hiding in the vents again or Thor was just around the corner. "It’s not just a ‘keys to the kingdom’ thing here."

"I get it," Steve said, barely steady. "I’m just still… processing."

"He… he said he just forgot to tell us, that it’s been like that…" Bucky swallowed. "J? How long have our codes had complete access?"

"Seven months," JARVIS answered promptly. "Your codes not only have complete access, but override command power," he added after a moment.

"What?" Steve’s voice was hoarse. "He… he gave us…."

"If I may…" JARVIS’ voice was gentle. "If anything were to happen to Sir, both you Captain Rogers and you Master James would have the same power as he does. This includes control of SI shares, access to all his blueprints and files on the private server, and access and control of the suits. You are, as it stands, of the same position in the systems as Sir himself."

"Holy fuck," Bucky muttered, leaning back. "Steve…"

Steve’s hand came over and gripped his own, tightly, reassuring.

"That’s a lot of trust." He wasn’t ashamed of how his voice broke, not around Steve. Even with his memory some incomplete jigsaw, Bucky had enough of the pieces to know that he and Steve had seen each other at their best and worst. There was nothing to hide around Steve.

"Course he trusts you, Buck," Steve said instantly. His thumb rubbed over the back of Bucky’s hand. "Why wouldn’t he?"

"I’m unstable," he said bluntly. "Steve just the other month I got you-"

"Bucky." Steve gave him a commanding look, silencing him. He leaned forward and Bucky met him in the kiss, sighing as Steve’s lips gently pressed and parted his. He kept his eyes closed as they separated, hands on Steve’s shoulders, one of Steve’s tangled in Bucky’s hair. "He trusts you."

"He trusts us. We… we’ve been dating for a year, Steve, and for over half that time he’s let us have total access to _everything_. Tony doesn’t fucking do that shit. Not even Pepper has…”

"I know. I get it. It’s damned terrifying," Steve agreed. "I’m so afraid I’m gonna hurt him without meaning to."

Bucky snorted. “I think I’m far more likely to do that.”

Steve grimaced. “He ever tell you what I said to him the first time we met?” He shook his head. “I’m still surprised he’ll talk to me after some of that.” Steve shifted, even now guilty and ashamed, despite Tony insisting it was okay now, that they’d both fucked up and not been at their best. Bucky'd heard about it - from both of them and little pieces he could weasel out of the others. 

"Steve," Bucky sighed. "Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone fucks up, remember?"

Steve smiled softly. “I remember.” He kissed Bucky again, soft and coaxing. Bucky shifted so they were spread out along the length of the couch, Steve warm on top of him.

"Promise," Bucky whispered when the kissing had petered off. "Promise that we won’t let each other fuck this up."

"Promise," Steve agreed.


	25. Could you repeat that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated posting this or the feelsy drabble first. I went with this.

"Could you repeat that?"

The agents around them shifted, but Maria Hill drew herself taller and lifted her chin. There was a sympathetic tilt to her lips, her eyes were understanding, but her voice didn’t waver even a bit.

"Both Winter Soldier and Iron Man are MIA. We managed to retrieve Hawkeye and Falcon, as well as the data. Both are in medical being treated."

It took two tries before his voice worked again. “Status?”

"Neither are critical, but they’re not going to be moving for at least a few days."

Steve nodded, the movement too sharp to feel natural.

Bucky and Tony were missing.

Turning and walking out of the briefing room in Stark Tower, Steve got in the elevator and finally let himself slump over, bracing his hands on the wall in front of him.

"Shall I take you to medical, Captain?" Jarvis’ tone was gentle, understanding. Steve glanced towards the camera.

"Yeah. You have anything?"

"I am gathering all available data as we speak. Once you are finished in medical, perhaps you should go to Sir’s workshop."

"Right." Steve straightened, pulled himself together piece by ragged piece. If he was going to be of any use he couldn’t afford to break down even the smallest bit. 

"Talk to you soon, Jarvis."

~*~*~*~

Bucky dragged the back of his arm over his forehead, He felt the blood there smear more than wipe away. Ah, well.

Glancing over his shoulder, he checked on Tony. He’d been dragging the armor behind him, repulsors covering his hands. There was one body near him that showed repulsor damage, and Tony seemed no worse than before the small ambush.

Tony finally looked over, face grim and smeared with dirt and sweat. There was a deep cut above his eye; it seemed to have finally stopped bleeding.

Nodding once, Tony started dragging the armor. Bucky waited until he was closer before continuing.

"Any ideas about the nearest town?"

Bucky looked around, shrugged. “Not close. Might be Hydra.”

Tony sighed. “Awesome.” His lips thinned. “Just get me to technology, even if I can’t recharge the suit I can rig up something. Maybe even get a signal out to Jarvis.”

They kept trudging. “Steve will be looking.”

Bucky was absolutely sure of that, so much so that even with the Winter Soldier programming riding him so hard there was no doubt. Steve would look for, and most likely find, them. His job, therefore, was just to keep them alive until then.

He glanced at Tony. He was favoring his left leg more.

Catching the look, Tony scowled. “Don’t even start with me, Barnes, or I’ll suggest you take a break and let me splint those fingers.”

Bucky had worked with broken fingers before. He figured that point wouldn’t help in an argument with Tony at this point.

"The arm?" Tony sighed after several more minutes. His breathing was a little heavier. Bucky slowed the pace slightly enough that Tony wouldn’t be likely to notice.

He glanced down at the arm, shifted it, feeling every catch and scrape of plating. “Stiff,” he said. “Works, but not… fluidly.”

Tony nodded, eyes running over it like he’d be able to analyze it without the aid of his machines. Hell, maybe he could. Bucky didn’t doubt Tony’s skills when it came to machines. “If we can, I’ll take a look at it when we stop.”

"Not a priority. Armor, makeshift weapons, signal."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony shifted the cord he was using to drag the armor. Bucky frowned; it had started wearing his skin raw. "Can food be on that list too maybe?"

"Maybe." When Tony glanced over, he made his lips curl in a small smile. Tony grinned widely back.

"Less talking, more walking." Tony picked up the pace, and Bucky followed, shaking his head. The situation should have made them serious, grim. It didn’t look good. But Tony… somehow it was hard not to feel confident when Tony grinned like this was just a minor hiccup, a fun challenge if anything.

They’d get through this. They’d survive, Steve would find them. They’d get out, get home.

They could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes there is a continuation of this. But I like to make you wait for it...


	26. There's something I've been meaning to say...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mentions of near-drowning. And violence. *nods*
> 
> Today has been kind of shitty for me, and I think I'm ALSO coming down with something because I've had a raspy cough today. That might have been from the little dust-bunny nation at the bottom shelves I was working on today though.

Tony’s teeth chattered, the icy water dripping off his clothes making him shake for more than one reason. Bucky’s metal fingers were still wrapped tightly into the back of his shirt, and he continued to half-haul them along, farther from the river.

"S-s-suit," Tony protested.

"Failsafes?"

"J-J-JARVIS."

"Then we’ll deal with that when we can."

"B-but my te-te-te-"

Bucky shook him, just a bit, and Tony’s mouth snapped shut. They kept going, as quickly as Bucky dared. HYDRA wouldn’t be far behind the scout team he and Tony had left dead at the river. Part of Bucky was just willing them to show up, because he was so angry at the moment. It was a burning anger against the freeze of the programing, and each time Tony stumbled or Bucky caught a renewed glimpse of him, it grew worse.

They’d tried to drown Tony.

His free hand clenched, and he could feel the blood there even though the river water had washed it away when he’d gone in after him.

"W-we’re not at the c-c-cor-"

"He’ll find us." Bucky paused, listening, and changed directions. "He always finds his people."

Tony stared at him, eyes dark in his pale face, lips tinged blue, hair plastered around his forehead and temples. There was a new, nasty cut on his lip, all the more horrible looking for the unnatural coloring to them. He nodded once, tried to draw himself straighter, and concentrated on keeping up.

Quiet Tony worried Bucky. Quiet Tony meant something was wrong.

He changed directions a few more times, eyes constantly scanning. The Soldier programming wanted him to do all kinds of things, analyzing each possible situation and outcome. His best chance of survival was to leave Tony behind, but that was _not happening_. Not ever. So the next best chance was to hide and wait HYDRA out.

Somewhere that they couldn’t see them, but he could see them. Take a few shots that would be hard to locate the direction of…

A sniper’s nest.

He hefted the rifle he’d taken back at the river higher on his shoulder and started eying the trees.

"Can you climb?"

Tony gave him a hard look. He still didn’t speak. Bucky swallowed back the worry and just waited.

"Yeah."

"Alright then," he said quietly. "We’re going up as far as we can. I want a view of them coming."

He had to help Tony after a while, because as stubborn as Tony was, Bucky refused to let that lead to him breaking his idiot neck from falling. Once he was satisfied with their spot, he settled Tony back against the trunk and sat right in front of him.

Tony’s arms were freezing cold as they wrapped around him, creeping under his shirt. Bucky ignored it.

It was quiet.

For Bucky, it was easy to fall into a routine, a mix of memory from the Commandos and from the programming blending together until he was in a good space for this. His breathing was steady and silent, his muscles relaxed and still. He was aware of the sounds and movement of the environment around him, taking it in and dismissing anything that was normal.

Tony buried his face into Bucky’s back.

Bucky carefully took aim when the first HYDRA agent started creeping into view. His partner wasn’t far behind him. He analyzed shots, how long it’d take, if they’d have enough time to find and fire their own.

The shots echoed in the forest around them, and even the night sounds went dead.

Movement to the south, hurried footsteps of two or more. Bucky waited for them to pass the tree.

The return fire wasn’t even close to them. Part of Bucky wanted to move, before more showed up, get to a new position.

He’d not be able to do so quickly enough with Tony.

He glanced back.

"G-go," Tony whispered. He stiffly pulled away, nodding in some general direction that simply meant ‘away’.

Bucky stared, thinking and assessing as quickly as possible. He pulled Tony in for a kiss, warm and harsh, before scaling back down and silently hurrying for a new spot. He’d barely gotten into place before more appeared, five this time. Forest had to be crawling with them.

He took in all five, knowing that even if he got a few the others would pin him quickly enough. Best to get as high-risk targets as he could before return fire started interfering.

One shot up a flare.

Bucky shot him between the eyes.

Two more, return fire. Unexpectedly, a pine cone hit one in the head, distracting him. Bucky shot him, didn’t flinch when the last guy’s shot came within an inch of his arm, shot him too. Not fatal. He took aim again, fired, and waited.

Three more showed up, almost half an hour later. They were dragging the armor with them.

Please don’t let Tony do anything stupid….

"Start work," one barked.

Bucky’s eyes immediately found Tony in his tree, tense and focused down below. Bucky knew he was out of shots, which meant direct confrontation. He needed a few minutes for a plan of attack, but would Tony wait that long?

Finally, finally Tony looked over at him. Bucky wasn’t sure how good Tony’s eyesight was right then, in the dark, but he held up three fingers in a rare fit of hope. It seemed forever before Tony gave a single, harsh nod.

Bucky pushed aside the relief and focused. He had three minutes to think of something, or Tony would probably take action himself.

A soft sound distracted him. He almost missed it, almost dismissed it, except some sense was raising the hair along the back of his neck. He started scanning to the left, searching…

The shield swung through the clearing, hitting one man in the face before rebounding off a tree and into Steve’s hand. Natasha was right behind him, knives almost invisible in the dark. A clear whistle brought Bucky’s attention to the tree Tony was in. Clint was perched in a branch right next to him, giving him an ‘ok’ sign before pulling and releasing.

More HYDRA agents started appearing, making Bucky glad he’d not gone down there earlier.

Now though…

He dropped into the fight.

It was brutal, it was bloody, it was short. When all went still again, Bucky was heaving and tense, aware that blood was on his hands again.

He didn’t care.

He watched as Clint helped Tony back down from the tree. Tony stumbled as they reached the ground, one hand bracing against the trunk and the other curled across his chest.

"Tony," Steve breathed, eyes wide. He cut a glance at Bucky, who gave a sharp nod. Steve straightened, slotting the shield on his back. "Dr. Banner is back at the jet. Clint, call ahead and let him know-"

"There’s," Tony panted, fingers twisting in Steve’s sleeve when he helped Tony ease away from the support of the tree. "There’ something I’ve been meaning to say…"

"What?" Steve’s voice was soft, gentle. Bucky hardly realized he’d eased closer until Steve’s other hand pulled him in. Tension he hadn’t realized he’d still been carrying started easing.

Tony grinned. It was exhausted, a bit bloody, and his eyes weren’t entirely focused, but it was a real grin. “You two are fucking hot when you’re fighting like that.”

Steve made a strangled sound, like he’d choked on a laugh.

Bucky started laughing helplessly.

Tony just kept grinning, looking pleased with himself, and leaned more firmly into Steve. “I want food now. And a really hot shower. Preferably with company, but honestly the hot part is more important. And clothes - warm, dry clothes would be perfect.”

"I think we can do that," Steve said, full of warmth.

"Thank fuck," Bucky said. He started following Clint and Natasha back. They had Tony’s suit with them. "Took you fuckers long enough to get here."

"I had to _find_ your asses!” Steve called after him.

"Excuses, excuses."


	27. Bonus Drabble 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moon wanted "Tony tries to say 'I-love-you' in inventions. (no matter who the 'I-love-you's are aimed towards)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who is actually sick now? (I went to my morning job. It made me feel like... well, I was very unhappy when I got off, and then I had to walk home from the bus stop in the heat and that wasn't fun - or maybe it felt so hot because of the fever, idk - and then ugh my sister was being loud and obnoxiously cheerful. I called in sick for city-job in the afternoon. Might call in sick for morning job tomorrow, too.)
> 
> ANYWAY, because I am a grumpy whiny sick person, I'm gonna say that since your reviews always make me feel better and put a smile on my face I DEMAND THEM. *nods*

When Tony was small, and his Dad was in a furious mood, and his mother wanted nothing to do with him right then, he would sit in the kitchen and watch Jarvis.

Jarvis was a quiet man, but he always listened to Tony talk, and he tried to explain to Tony that his mother loved him but she didn’t know how to take care of other people. He tried to assure Tony that Howard’s anger wasn’t with Tony, but with other people in the world.

When Tony had asked why Howard yelled at him all the time, then, Jarvis had floundered a bit before saying, “Because he forgets.”

On days that things were particularly bad, Jarvis would wipe away tears Tony refused to admit were there (and far too quickly learned to keep back and hide) and set Tony on top of the counter. He’d make cookies, or hot chocolate, or a few rare times when things were really bad (times that Howard got more physical than usual, or where his words went deeper than normal) Jarvis made a chocolate pudding cake.

He’d serve Tony a large helping of whatever he’d made, press a kiss to the top of Tony’s head, and say “Try not to worry, Master Tony.”

Tony figured it out after a few years. Jarvis of course made these things to make Tony feel better, comforted him because that’s what adults were supposed to do when children were upset - especially their children.

But Jarvis wasn’t Tony’s family, not in the typical sense of the word, and Tony knew that if Howard had ever heard Jarvis say “I love you” to Tony then there would have been problems.

Jarvis said it without ever saying it.

Tony learned how to say it back.

The first invention Tony made to say ‘I love you’ was less a small pen-flashlight-knife thing. Tony had figured, at the time, that it would keep Jarvis safe while also being useful.

Jarvis smiled and kissed the top of Tony’s head. Tony knew then that Jarvis had heard the silent ‘I love you.’

Over the years, Tony often made Jarvis small inventions, little gadgets or upgrades to things he used often, making sure that Jarvis _knew_ that Tony loved him, too. And Jarvis, even when Tony got older and was hardly ever home, even when Tony was angry with the world but especially his dad and sometimes lashed out, Jarvis was still always making Tony ‘I love you’ foods.

A few times, Tony tried to give ‘I love you’ gifts to his parents.

It never ended well.

Jarvis made chocolate pudding cake those days.

When Jarvis died and all those people tried giving him food, he threw it out (once right in front of the person; he didn’t care - they didn’t love him, they didn’t even like him, they shouldn’t be giving him food when he wasn’t getting anymore ‘I love you’s.)

When Tony met Rhodey, became good friends with him, small things started appearing in Rhodey’s apartment. Upgrades to his phone, his laptop, his microwave. Then it was straight-up new devices, a coffee mug that regulated and self-heated, a taser-like thing that looked like a pack of gum.

Pepper got all kinds of things. Newest versions of the few civilian friendly tech that SI produced. Fake-roses that smelled like real ones and changed color depending on the decor around them.

When they started dating, the gifts and inventions got more and more excessive. Tony just smiled and shrugged it off whenever she sighed, exasperated. Whenever she said she didn’t like it, or want it, or for him to stop with the expensive gifts already. (“Tony, it’s like you’re trying to buy me, that’s what people think when you get me those flashy pieces of jewelry.” “But, Pep, it’s not just jewelry, it can turn into a-” “Tony.” “Sorry.”)

He made entire floors personalized for the Avengers and their close friends.

He made the Lewis Special.

He made new bows and arrows for Clint.

He made Natasha improved Widow’s Bites, better handguns, better uniform material.

Darcy and Natasha got shoes that could shift from fancy to sensible.

Mostly Darcy, but if Darcy got them and Natasha didn’t get a pair, Darcy would pout, so.

Phil and Steve always got the newest, coolest weapons Tony could think of. He only made weapons for his team, for the people he needed to keep safe. He trusted Phil and Steve to keep the really dangerous ones he made for them safe and secret and used for the right reasons.

Thor never wanted much; Tony made him a toaster that specialized in making the perfect warmed pop-tart.

Bruce got a whole lab, full of fancy toys and equipment, some of which Tony had to explain because it _hadn’t existed before._

Bucky got a new arm, upgrades.

Steve and Bucky got new gadgets, new weapons, new silly little robots that did silly little things and made them smile.

Tony made a robot that would sing songs from the 30s and 40s whenever it was quiet for too long on whatever floor Bucky was. It never failed to make Bucky smile.

Steve got a small hologram display, flat and thin and fitting in the palm of his hand, filled with pictures of people from his past and people from his present. All mixed together, so that he never had to forget one or get overwhelmed with the other.

Darcy figured it out first. Tony kept making her things, all the time, sometimes things that made her laugh and sometimes things that kept her safe, but always things she’d like and made her smile. And she did get it, that it was his way of showing he cared, but when she realized…

She dropped a plate of brownies on his work table. While he stared at them, almost blank, she kissed his cheek. “Thanks for the new shoes, Tones.”

"Yeah," he said faintly. "Don’t mention it."

She smiled, kissed his cheek again, and left him alone to deal with what was obviously something more than surface would tell.

It wasn’t much longer that Bucky and Steve figured it out.

They sometimes made things back - Bucky made Tony’s coffee like he always had, but saw a whole new level of context to it he hadn’t before. Steve would bring Tony food when he was swamped with work. They’d compliment his thoughtfulness and thank him, as before.

Except now they added, “Love you too.”

The first time Steve had said it, in the kitchen the morning after a mission where the new body armor Tony had given him as he’d left had saved his life, Bucky and Tony had both been there. Bucky was eating cereal, Tony drinking coffee he’d made, when Steve trudged in, dropped the shield in the doorway, and leaned over to kiss Tony’s hair, lingering.

"Thank you for the armor. I love you too."

Tony had paled, then flushed, and curled inward but not like he was upset. Bucky had kept half an eye on him, but Steve seemed to have it well in hand. He’d kissed Tony’s head again, patted him on the shoulder, and said “I need a shower.”

Bucky waited a few minutes before nudging his foot against Tony’s. When Tony glanced up, he nodded towards the coffee. “Need me to heat it up?”

Tony looked at it, sipped it. “No,” he said quietly.

Bucky just nodded and left him to it.

It kept going like that. Tony would make them something, they’d thank him and add “love you too.” The first several times, Tony would curl in on himself and flush and shift uneasily until the subject was changed and attention diverted. Eventually he ended up just ducking his head and flushing. Sometimes Bucky and Steve could catch a small smile, hidden almost from sight.

Tony didn’t say ‘I love you’ with words often, and really, they were okay with that. He said it often enough with everything else, every gift that he made or bought or improved with them in mind, every time he grumbled about their safety and shoved a new weapon into their hands.

They made sure he heard it, with every coffee and sketch and food dish given to him.

Bucky and Steve made sure he heard it back when he gave them things.

And eventually… eventually….

"Hey, here." Bucky pressed a cup of coffee into Tony’s hands. Steve had left a note saying Tony had already been up when he left for his run, muttering about three different projects he needed to finish. Tony looked exhausted, which meant the projects probably did _not_ need to be finished just yet. It meant there had probably been a nightmare, nothing bad but enough to keep Tony from restful sleep.

Tony took a long sip, eyes shutting and humming contently. “Thanks.” He set it down, turning back to his work. It was so quiet Bucky almost didn’t hear it.

"Love you too."

Bucky smiled, stepped back over to kiss Tony’s neck, and then left.

…Eventually Tony would sometimes say it back.


	28. Can we pretend I didn't just say that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for shenanigans of a sexual sort. And dirty talk. *waggles brows*
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely reviews last chapter. I'm still feeling terribly sick and called in so I'm not working tomorrow either. I feel bad about it, but I'd just be miserable and get even MORE sick if I went. So.
> 
> Have another chapter.

Tony twisted around to stare, eyes wide. His mouth fell open, just a bit, like he had no idea how to respond. Tony always knew how to respond.

Even Bucky had his brows raised, just watching Steve to see how he’d handle this.

He turned bright red.

"Can we pretend I didn’t just say that?"

"No. No I don’t think we can." Tony snapped his fingers at nothing. "Jarvis, save a recording of that to my personal files forever, and make it good enough that no one can ever delete it in case Steve tries to talk Natasha into trying to hack for it."

"I wouldn’t have her hack your stuff," he muttered, crossing his arms.

Bucky laughed. “You wouldn’t have to ask. You’d only have to imply you want it to happen.”

Steve glared, but Bucky was entirely unaffected, as per usual.

"Oh, I love it. It’s like Christmas came early, or my birthday, is it my birthday?" Tony frowned.

"No, Sir."

"Ah, well." He waved a hand dismissively. "Even better really, because that means this won’t be a special occasion thing." He grinned. "Come on, Rogers, keep going."

"No," he muttered sullenly.

"He’s not gonna stop. Hell, I’m not gonna let him stop," Bucky added.

"Fuck you."

"I’m certainly not opposed," Tony said. "So long as I get to watch."

Bucky gave Tony a look for that, amused and somewhat contemplative, but Tony was much more focused on Steve. “What’d’ya think, Steve? Can Jarvis record it?”

"Jesus, Tony!"

He laughed at both of them. “Aw, don’t get all shy on me now, Steve.” He stood, walking over to stand in front of Steve. His smile was less wide but more sincere, affectionate and just a bit shy. “I like it.”

"Couldn’t tell," Bucky muttered, leaning against the table. "Way you are in bed."

Tony glanced up at Steve playfully - almost too practiced, almost fake if not for the still somewhat shy smile. “Come on, Cap. We’re not gonna judge you, you know.”

"I know," he said, gently stroking along Tony’s jaw. His facial hair tickled the pads of Steve’s fingers. Tony’s hands crept down his chest to wrap his fingers around Steve’s hips. He inched them under the shirt, teasing.

"I like watching you and Bucky," he muttered, still feeling the heat tingling in his cheeks and scalding his ears. "You always make these… _sounds_ ….”

"Yeah?"

Steve swallowed, nodded. “You get so damned pliant when he’s got his hand on your neck… it’s…” He released a shuddery breath. “It’s hot.”

Tony’s lips were shifting along his neck, slowly making their way up. He pressed closer and closer as Steve kept talking.

"I’ve drawn it. Pictures of you two."

"Wanna see ‘em."

"Later." Steve’s voice was strangled as Tony nipped at his ear. "Give me something to draw."

"Busy."

Steve started only a bit when he felt Bucky’s cool metal hand grab at his hair, pulling him into a kiss with Tony between them. “Keep going, Steve,” he whispered against his lips.

They were going to kill him, if not from embarrassment when he’d blurted it out earlier than from what they were doing right now.

"Want to watch him suck you."

"Fuck, yeah." Bucky stepped back, grabbing Tony’s shoulder and gently turning him around. "You heard the man, he wants to watch you suck me, and he’s not gonna show you a drawing until you give him something to draw so…"

Tony blinked, a bit dazedly, then glanced over at Steve and smiled, slow and satisfied. “You want to draw me sucking him off? On the couch or…?”

"On your knees," Steve said. His voice was hoarse with want, he felt somewhat lightheaded as he watched Tony fall far too gracefully to his knees for a man in his forties. Bucky’s fingers tangled in the hair at the base of Tony’s neck, earning them a soft moan.

As Tony started undoing the front of Bucky’s pants, Bucky glanced at Steve, raising a brow. He might have been aiming for nonchalant or something, but instead he just looked flushed and a bit dazed. “Better grab your sketchpad, Steve.”


	29. Bonus Drabble 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moon prompted "one of the boys has a nightmare; the other two comfort him in whatever manner you desire"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the well-wishes. Feeling marginally better today, except my throat is way worse.

The sight of Tony on screen sent his heart dropping into his stomach, bruises and cuts and blood all too visible.

The too-familiar, blank look in his eyes was worse.

Zola walked into view, short and smug and pure fucking evil. He stroked a hand through Tony’s hair, and Tony did _nothing_ , just _took it_ , and Bucky thought he was going to be sick.

"As you can see, we no longer have need of the Asset. We have created a new one, a better one. The suit’s technology has been… fascinatingly helpful."

"Give him back," Bucky croaked. "Don’t you dare fucking-"

"It is too late. He has helped us perfect our systems, there is no means of recovery." Zola grinned. "Even if we released him back to you, there is no Tony Stark left."

"We’ll find you," Steve promised from off to the side. "We’ll get him."

"Will you Captain?" Zola tilted his head, an amused smile curling his lips. Bucky shook, fought back the urge to scream, to throw up, to attack. "What if we send him after you first?" He turned to someone off screen, saying, "Bring in the first mission - James Rhodes, alias, Iron Patriot." He turned back to them. "Wouldn’t want for history to repeat again, do we? We waited to have Colonel Rhodes in hand ourselves before offering you this proof of our success. What better witnesses than the Avengers?"

They could only watch as Tony mindlessly followed orders, and Bucky couldn’t get to him, didn’t know where he was, couldn’t try to snap Tony out of it, because he couldn’t be gone, he couldn’t, this couldn’t have happened to _Tony_ , it-

Someone was shaking him.

He lashed out.

Steve’s hand caught his, eyes wide with worry and panic. It was dark. Their bedroom. Bucky cast his eyes about but no Tony. Tony wasn’t there.

He started struggling, throwing Steve’s hands off of him, fighting away from them as Steve kept reaching out.

"Bucky - _Bucky_!” Steve cried.

"I, where’s Tony? I need - I need to see - where is he, Steve?" Bucky fought out of the blankets, snarling as Steve reached out to him.

"He’s not here, Buck, you know he’s-"

"I _need to see him!”_ he shouted, twisting and grabbing Steve’s arms. Steve hissed a bit, tugging back on the arm held by the metal hand. Bucky immediately let go, but there was going to be some serious bruising.

"Okay," Steve soothed. "Let me - just give me a few minutes, alright?" His eyes were still wide, pleading. Bucky nodded, fisting his hands in the blankets to stop the shaking. Steve reluctantly pulled back, off the bed, and hesitated before he left the room, phone already to his ear.

~*~*~

"Keep an eye on him, JARVIS," Steve murmured as he stepped into the living room. He dragged a hand through his hair sharply, pacing as he waited for the other line to be picked up.

"H’llo?" She cleared her throat. "Steve? Steve it’s three in the morning-"

"Tony’s not picking up his phone, and I need to talk to him. Right now."

"He’s probably in the middle of-"

"It’s important, Pepper."

"Steve, what’s wrong?" Her voice sharpened. "Do you need-"

"Tony. I just need Tony."

"Okay. Let me - I’ll make a call, let me see - just give me a few minutes, Steve okay? Do I need to send anyone over, is there anything I can-"

"Just Tony," he sighed.

"Okay, Steve." Her voice was gentle. "I’m going to hang up and see what I can do. Give me a few." He stopped pacing, slumping and taking deep breaths.

He had no idea what had set Bucky off like that, but it was terrifying. Steve knew nightmares - god, did he know nightmares - and Bucky had had some pretty bad ones back when he was first recovering. Sometimes he still had nights that were bad, where he refused to go back to sleep and left the room altogether. But this? This was a whole different matter.

Bucky was panicked and wanted Tony, which - well - sucked because Tony was on a business trip on the other side of the damn planet. Steve seriously hoped a phone call was going to suffice.

His phone started ringing in his hand and he flipped it open without bothering to look. It was the stupid ringtone Tony had set for himself.

"Steve, what’s wrong? What happened?"

Steve’s eyes fell shut. Even if he wasn’t calling Tony for himself, just hearing him calmed him down some, made this seem easier.

"Steve?"

The note of almost panic made him straighten. “I’m fine. Tony, I’m fine. I…” He floundered for a moment. “Buck needs you. I don’t know - he woke up and was pretty freaked out, he kept demanding to see you.”

"Alright. Have JARVIS put up the vid screen in the room, he’ll be able to pull me up on there."

"Okay."

Steve headed back to the room, giving a single knock to the door so Bucky knew it was him, a warning. Bucky hadn’t moved so much as an inch, stiff and staring at nothing with hollow, horrified eyes.

Tony’s image popped up on the screen and Buck flinched.

"Hey, hey, what’s wrong, Bucky?" Tony’s calm from the phone with Steve seemed to have vanished instantly. "Bucky, babe, talk to me."

"I…" His eyes seemed pulled up to the screen almost reluctantly, and then they refused to leave, running over the image of Tony obsessively. "You’re okay?"

"I’m fine, bored with these idiots over here and missing you guys, but fine," Tony reassured. "But you, you’re not fine, what’s wrong?"

Bucky shook his head, lips set, and hardly blinked as he kept staring at Tony like he’d thought he’d never see him again.

"You’re safe?"

Bucky sounded skeptical, but Tony just smiled. “Yeah, got Happy with me, and the suit, the best security money over here can buy.”

Bucky scowled. “I…”

"I promise I’m fine."

He huffed, hands clenching against the sheets again, twisting them sharply. Steve carefully sat next to him, reaching out. The moment it touched him Bucky shrugged it off, pulling away without looking from Tony.

Tony frowned. “Bucky, talk to us, what-“

"Nothing."

"Buck-"

"Just a - it’s fine."

"Obviously not," Tony said. His eyes narrowed. "Are you going to freak out if I hang up? I think you’re going to freak out."

"I’m _fine_ , sorry to pull you out of a meeting or whatever-“

"It’s fine," Tony said, waving his hand dismissively. He eyed them for a little longer before nodding to himself. "Right. I’ll see you in eh - fourteen hours, probably."

"What-" Steve started, but Tony’s image was gone. Bucky started shaking a bit next to him again.

Carefully, Steve reached out and touched the hand closest to him, trying to ease it from such a tight grip.

"Bucky."

He let out a breath, shuddering as he slumped into himself. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered.

Steve wasn’t so sure of that, but he didn’t say anything.

His phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"There’ll be a driver to pick you up in twenty minutes."

"Pepper?"

"Tony has arranged for a friend’s jet to take you to Japan." There was a bit of amusement in her tone, all fond exasperation, as well as confusion. "Steve, what happened?"

He glanced at Bucky. “Nothing that we’re not working on fixing.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “Alright. I’m assuming that means that it’s not Avengers-related, or spy related, which means I can stop worrying about any of that. Can you be ready for the driver?”

"Yeah. Sorry about this."

"Steve, this is the least trouble I’ve been put through in this job. It’s not a problem. I hope… well, I hope whatever is wrong gets better soon."

"Thanks. Really."

"Good night."

Steve murmured it back, hanging up and setting his phone aside. “Hey. Come on, we need to grab our stuff.”

Bucky frowned, not opening his eyes or moving. “Mission?”

"No." Steve stood up, grabbing a pair of jeans and pulling them on. "Tony’s got a jet waiting for us."

Bucky finally looked up, brows raised. After several moments, an exhausted smile tugged faintly at his lips. “Idiot.” He sounded relieved though.

Steve smiled and shrugged. “Sooner we get to the jet the sooner we can see Tony.”

Bucky was already moving.

~*~*~

Tony met them at the airport, leaning against the limo in a suit and smiling faintly. There was no one around to see them, except Happy and the flight staff.

No one that would admit to having seen Bucky yank Tony into him and refuse to let go for several minutes, burying his face in Tony’s neck. Tony stroked his back, casting a bewildered look at Steve, and murmured softly into his hair. He hadn’t truly let go by the time they all made their way into the limo.

As they pulled away from the airport, Tony pulled back enough to cup Bucky’s face, expression serious.

"Gonna tell me what this is all about?"

Bucky shook his head. “I just… needed to see that you were still okay.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll drop it for now.” He kissed his forehead and shifted them around so they were pressed close, Steve on Bucky’s other side. “We have two hours until my next meeting. I’m starving, we are going to go to the best restaurant here, I swear, you’ll love it.”

Bucky smiled into Tony’s shoulder.

Tony caught Steve’s eye and winked as he kept talking. Steve relaxed.


	30. Hey, have you seen the...? Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the FIRST Sandbox drabble ever written. The first. The one that started it all.
> 
> In case you are wondering, somehow I am even MORE sick today, like, there's a fever and asthma-triggering coughing fits and my throat refuses to let me do much of anything that requires using it. I may cave and get lemon tea like everyone keeps telling me, and I am NOT a tea fan.

Tony tilted his head to rub his eye on his shoulder, since he had grease from his fingernails to somewhere above his elbows. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten and ended up smearing it into his eyes, but he hadn’t quite hit that level of exhaustion. Yet. It was approaching.

JARVIS had reached the stage of silent disapproval, only responding if Tony directed a question his way, instead of quipping to Tony’s usual chatter when he was in the middle of a project. Really, it was only luck that Steve was off on some mission who the fuck knew where - well, the Private Spy Business knew where, if Tony wanted to know he could easily find out since he, you know, owned it, but then Steve would end up hearing about it and give him that fucking disappointed stare. The tired one that meant he wasn't going to talk to Tony about it right then, the one that made Tony feel three inches tall and as worthless as anything.

If Steve had been there, though, he’d have dragged Tony out of the workshop the other day. Or… wait, it had been four days. Okay, so he’d have dragged Tony out two days ago.

Dum-E whirred, turning from the work he was not really helping with at one of the work tables. Tony looked to see what had the bot’s attention and blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. (Wouldn’t really be the first time.)

"Barnes. Thought you were with Cap."

Bucky didn’t answer, just scowled rather impressively and stepped into the workshop. He marched - really, it was a march, Tony wasn’t exaggerating here - right over and grabbed Tony by the back of his neck. The metal fingers were just a few degrees cooler than normal human body temperature, smooth and cool and unrelenting against Tony’s neck.

"Four damned days," Bucky was muttering as he directed Tony out the door in front of him and up the stairs. "We leave and what? You immediately rabbit yourself down in your little hidey hole and don’t leave? You’re an idiot, Stark, really."

"I-"

"Shut up Tony."

Tony sucked in a sharp breath, shivering at the combination of metal fingers squeezing warningly and that voice dropping into a lower, deeper tone. He licked his lips - how the hell had he gotten grease onto the corner of his mouth? - and kept silent all the way up to their floor.

The elevator parted. Tony didn’t hear Steve, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask just yet either. Bucky steered him to their bathroom and finally let go.

"Strip," he said. "Can’t leave him alone for a fucking hour," he continued muttering to himself.

Tony resented that, really he did, except the lights off the tile were kind of hurting his eyes. And his mind felt fuzzy at the edges, and it’d apparently been four days so… Bucky probably had a point. At least a little bit. In his defense, Tony had thought he’d only just reached the third, not the end of the fourth.

Bucky stepped back from testing the water temperature, and Tony stepped past him into the shower. He groaned at how good it felt, the pressure perfect as it hit the sore muscles in his shoulders he hadn’t even felt. Tony grabbed the rough soap for getting rid of grease and started scrubbing.

Bucky left after a few minutes. Tony heard him opening cupboards before the door clicked shut behind him.

He almost fell asleep in the shower. It’s just - it’d been a really cool idea, and it wasn’t like he wanted to sleep in an empty bed. It was a big bed, it felt extra empty when it was just him, he’d gone longer than four days before. Not a big deal.

He grabbed Steve’s shampoo without thought, because he could and he missed him. Tony hadn't seen or heard him yet, and Bucky hadn’t mentioned where he was. Sometimes Coulson or Hill kept Captain America longer than the others. Tony was not the only one annoyed by this, but he was the only one who thought ignoring them completely was a brilliant decision. Bucky probably agreed with him but never said so, just shrugged. Steve seemed to take that as agreement that he should stay.

When he climbed out of the shower, he had to stop again and look around. His towel wasn’t where it usually hung. His dirty clothes were gone. He opened the cupboard doors, frowning. Did they seriously not have any towels in here?

Sighing, Tony gave his head a sharp shake, getting more of the water out of it. He no longer needed to dry his hair right after washing it, he’d gotten past that, but the feel of droplets trailing down his neck and face still made his spine tingle unpleasantly. He pulled the door open, sticking his head out because maybe when Bucky had been opening cupboards he'd noticed the lack of towels and was fixing it.

"Hey, have you seen the…? _Oh_.”

Bucky smirked - which was unfair, honestly, his cheeks did this dimple-thing and his eyes went heavy-lidded and it was seductive, it really was. Steve just smiled patiently, all gentle-like. It made Tony warm all over, made it hard to actually keep hold of the blustering confidence that had gotten him through so much of his life. It made him want to be all bashful, and he was Tony Stark so that was just ridiculous. (Except it felt less like pretending, sometimes, and he was pretty sure Steve and Bucky _liked_ him without the bluster.)

Steve patted the mattress, smile stretching. “C’mon, Tony.”

He did not hesitate for a moment before joining them. Steve reached over and actually dragged Tony in between the two of them, right over his lap, and Tony couldn’t help but quip with a “Captain Showoff.”

Bucky chuckled, running his fingers through Tony’s hair as Steve grabbed a towel from the bottom of the bed and began dying off Tony’s shoulders, the back of his hair.

"Shoulda seen him before. He was worse."

"Was not," Steve denied, calm and patient and no one ever would believe Captain America was such a good liar. Bucky just snorted and reached over to swat Steve’s shoulder.

"I may not have perfect recall of back then but I remember enough."

It’d been almost two years - Bucky was better about it, but Tony still found himself leaning into his side. Bucky’s hand squeezed the back of his neck, briefly, in thanks before dropping. The towel rubbed the top of his hair before hitting the floor.

Steve handed Tony a shirt. It wasn’t Tony’s or Steve’s, and it smelled more of their detergent than Bucky but it was comfortable and worn. Familiar… and Tony liked the way Bucky looked when Tony wore his things, all satisfied and pleased. (Steve liked it too; he pulled Bucky in for a kiss in front of Tony.)

From the bedside table, Bucky dragged over a tray with the most ridiculous sandwiches on them, stuffed full of meat and cheese and all kinds of things. He made sure to pointedly put the sandwich in Tony’s hand and both of them stared expectantly until he took a bite. His stomach rolled over hungrily after that first bite and Tony didn’t come up for air until it was all finished. The other two were on their second sandwiches, because they were super-soldiers with ridiculous metabolisms.

The tray was cleared away and Steve dragged Tony down with him under the blankets. Steve’s flannel pajama pants were soft against Tony’s legs, and Bucky’s metal arm was cool as it wrapped around his back to curl around his neck. Tony sighed - it was _not_ a yawn, seriously, it was a really big sigh - into Steve’s neck. Bucky hummed as Steve shifted just a bit under Tony. He was probably dragging his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

"Sleep. We’re home."

Tony couldn’t muster up enough energy to form words so he just hummed. Bucky chuckled and Steve hushed him, hand coming up to settle warm and steady on Tony’s lower back. Quieting, Bucky curled closer to their sides and loosened, all that constant tension in his muscles slipping away finally. Tony smiled.

"Fuck I missed this," he heard Bucky mumble, felt Steve’s chest vibrate with his agreement, and finally let that niggling anxiety at the back of his mind fade away. They were all three of them safe, together, uninjured and in their bed, and they could finally all sleep.


	31. Stop trying to cheer me up! Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the advice and well wishes on getting better! The throat is better, so there's that.
> 
> Warnings for: alcohol, bad choices, some minor violence related to the drinking of alcohol. Proceed with caution.
> 
> I'd apologize for doing this except I'm really not sorry.

It started out well enough.

Their bed was warm and full when morning came. They took their time getting up, Steve made hot chocolate (Tony poured coffee into his of course), Bucky made pancakes. They ate together at the table.

Tony had been working long hours the past few weeks to get something ready and finished for R&D, and he’d finally gotten a few days off starting the day before. Bucky and Steve both made sure to make it clear that for those days, they’d be unavailable unless it was an urgent matter. (Urgent, as in decided by Phil Coulson, who tended to try to handle things himself first.) That first day Tony had been too exhausted to do much, so they’d spent it spread out in the living room, eating take-out and watching one of the many shows Tony insisted was an important part of Steve’s and Bucky’s assimilation.

They had only gotten halfway through. They were planning on finishing it up today, and Steve was going to make homemade mac’n’cheese - “The real kind, not that box stuff Clint makes.”

So of course things went to hell.

At first, it didn’t seem to be too big of a problem. A small emergency, a small team. Steve, Bucky, Clint, and Natasha. (Sometimes it was too much of a hassle to argue with those two spies about one leaving on the mission without the other. Tony had figured that with Clint on high and Bucky on the ground, Steve and Natasha being familiar with each other from training and prior missions…)

Tony stayed behind, because that was a thing he had to do sometimes. He hated it. He preferred being out in the field, but the situation had no need of Iron Man, and so Tony Stark would just have to stay behind at the Tower, centered in the control room with Maria Hill and a few of her flunkies because Coulson was busy Elsewhere, with Sam and Bruce.

Tony made a call as he was directing them.

It was the complete opposite of a success.

He waited, out of the way and out of sight from the team, until he heard that chances were closer to pulling through than losing him, and then he retreated to his workshop.

He ignored Jarvis. Ignored his bots. Ignored the voices in his head that sounded too damn much like Steve and Bucky, like Pepper and Rhodey, like his mom softly pleading with his dad. It was too easy to break open the cabinet he’d not touched in several months and grab a mostly-full bottle of very old Scotch.

Too easy to open it and take a swallow straight from it, who needed a glass, why bother.

He didn’t know how long he’d been down there, mind running over things he could have said differently, different outcomes because of different variables, Howard’s voice echoing in his ears and he was right, he was always right.

Always fucked up somehow.

"Tony?"

He ignored him, taking another swallow - the bottle was well over half gone now. He’d get another soon. No reason to bother stopping.

"Hey." Steve crouched in front of him, freshly showered ( _covered in Bucky’s blood_ ), frowning in concern ( _pale and fearful_ ).

Tony said nothing. The alcohol didn’t burn. It didn’t feel warm in his chest. It didn’t make his mind quiet.

"Give me the bottle, Tony." Steve sounded so calm and patient and _gentle_ and it was stupid.

Tony raised a brow and took a very large drink.

There it was, a flicker of anger, which was better, except Steve tucked it away again, pretending again, Tony was tired of it, tired of all the pretending.

"Tony."

"F’ck off, Steve," he said.

Eyes narrowing, bright with anger, Steve reached for the bottle. “You’ve had more than enough.”

"Fuck. Off." Tony took care to enunciate. Steve’s hand clenched into a fist, nostrils flaring, and that was it, no more pretending.

"I thought you were trying to quit, Tony. You said-"

"Say a’lotta things. Lyin’ us’lly."

Steve took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It cleared away the anger, just leaving sympathy, leaving _that fucking awful tender look on Steve’s face_ and no, no, this wasn’t what Tony wanted.

"You were doing well. We’ll get back-"

"Shuttup."

"Why don’t we just go upstairs and order some food, watch a movie." His hand settled on Tony’s thigh, rubbing comfortingly. "I-"

"Stop it!" Tony shouted, jerking away from Steve, stumbling to his feet.

"Tony, it’s fine, we’ll-"

"Stop trying to cheer me up!" He threw the bottle, hard, right past Steve. It shattered against the wall, glittering glass hitting the floor and alcohol staining as it spread.

"Jesus Christ, Tony!" Steve stared with wide-eyes, muscles tensed. Probably not smart to throw a bottle at a soldier that was unlikely to be completely off the adrenaline rush. Who was probably already upset and trying to keep it in check because his best friend since childhood-current boyfriend was in critical condition.

Would probably pull through. Would know for sure come morning.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Steve shook his head, hard. "Dum-E, clean that up please? Jarvis, where does he keep-"

"Get th’ fuck out," Tony snarled.

Steve glared at him but kept going. “-more of it? I don’t imagine locking it will keep him out, but I can certainly move it from-“

"I said get th’ fuck out!" He pointed at the door. “‘M done, Steve. Done!"

"Then why don’t you come upstairs so-"

Tony’s laugh was acidic, the sneer on his face painful. “No’ talkin’ about th’ alcohol.”

It went very quiet. Steve was perfectly still, staring at Tony expressionlessly except for the small widening of his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Tony smirked. “I’m done,” he said, slowly and clearly. It took some effort but was worth it. “It was stupid, shouldn’ have let it hap’n in th’ first place.” He shook his head, gesturing towards the door. “Out. I’m done.”

Steve’s jaw clenched, his fists flexing. He blinked rapidly. “You’re drunk. You don’t mean-“

"I, Tony Stark," keep the words articulate, just like dear old dad always did so that they were sharp and pointed "do not wish to be in a relationship any longer. I. Am. Done."

"Is this because-" Steve’s voice broke, just a bit, and Tony cut him off harshly.

"It’s because I don’t want to anymore! I’m tired of it! Tired of pretending!" His words were starting to run together, so he slowed himself down, pulled his temper in deep where it couldn’t break past to ruin things. "So get out. I’m done."

Steve swallowed, breathed deeply. Lifting his chin just the slightest bit, pushing his shoulders back, he walked out of the workshop at the perfect pace, unhurried and unbowed.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.

Tony dropped into the couch, the breath that escaped shaky. Not a sob. Just shaky. From the fight and adrenaline. Not a sob.

The only sound was Dum-E sweeping up the glass and his shaky breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, yes I do have a part two. And you're all going to have to wait for it.
> 
> *blows internet kisses*


	32. Stop trying to cheer me up! Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was crazy busy, and my bus ran late because the community college started so traffic was TERRIBLE right when it was supposed to come and it was THIRTY MINUTES LATE. So I lost a good thirty minutes of my hour at home between jobs.
> 
> I need my own car...

It was two weeks before Bucky was released from medical. Two weeks of being stuck in a bed, with nothing to do (his hand had to heal). Two weeks of everyone avoiding a certain subject, despite his annoyance with them. Two weeks of Steve sulking and angry, but refusing to talk to Bucky about it (which meant it was fucking bad).

Not that Bucky couldn’t figure out the gist of it all, despite everyone changing the subject when he asked. There had been not a single sign of Tony. Usually whenever Bucky (or Steve on the rarer instance) was stuck in medical for any amount of time, Tony was there. The seat by the bed practically had his name on it (well, okay, it did, in that it was apparently a Stark product), and he’d sit there and fiddle with some gadget, either fixing it or planning it. It was oddly unsettling not to hear the usual muttered threats; it made his absence all the more glaring.

Bucky only really got a response out of Steve because he said he was going straight to find Tony as he was released. If Tony wasn’t going to come to him, he’d go to Tony. The tension that ran through Steve was almost combative - tight shoulders, fists and jaw clenched - and was familiar from the many memories he had of a smaller, more angry Steve. This was the Steve that faced down bullies in parking lots and alleys, not the Steve that talked about Tony Stark like he was the most lovable idiot he’d ever met.

Tony wasn’t a bully or an enemy, but Steve’s body language said otherwise.

Bucky knew how to run a covert mission. He calmed Steve down, letting him think he’d convinced Bucky to leave it, leave Tony. ‘Let him go’ were Steve’s words, all anger and pain and spat like they were toxic. Bucky was reasonably sure that normally, Steve would be fighting for Tony, that stubborn ‘I can do this all day’ attitude applying easily to the people he cared for. But whatever Tony had done or said, he’d done it with precision, because Steve was still too hurt to think straight. If he was, he’d know better than to take anything Tony said at face value.

The more it hurt, the more likely it was _meant_ to create distance.

He settled in his favorite armchair in his rooms. He never really used them, having all but moved onto Tony’s floor with Steve, but they were there for the days he wanted quiet and space. The armchair was almost absurdly huge, but enticingly comfortable. Tony had taken one look at Bucky sitting in it one of those first weeks, and laughed. _'Jesus Barnes - forget how sit in one of those things?'_

It should have been caustic, cruel, but it was just… Tony being unthinkingly Tony. He’d come right up to Bucky and decided to ‘give him lessons.’ It’d been completely absurd.

It might have been one of the first times Bucky laughed.

The skin of his back still felt tight and new, uncomfortable when he stretched before melting back into the perfect cushions.

"So, J." He pulled the tablet on the end table nearby into his lap, flipping through to where he wanted to go. "If I were to do some recon on this most recent SNAFU, you got any suggestions for me on where to start?"

There was a noticeable pause, and when he did speak Jarvis’s words were slow. Not quite reluctant, but something close to it. “The security footage would be particularly telling, I believe.”

"Gotcha," he muttered, concentrating. It wasn’t hard to get to it. Tony had given both Steve and him codes that worked for _everything_ , and it seemed they were still working. Jarvis was the master of security, of all the systems (and if Bucky trusted him less he might be paranoid about that), and he wasn’t exactly fighting Bucky on this.

Bucky leaned forward, watching it play out. He flinched when Tony finally lost it at Steve, bottle flying. It was followed by a sigh when Steve walked out, defensive even if he didn’t look it to most, and that was when all of Tony’s angry bluster collapsed.

Bucky dragged his hands over his face and fell backwards, head resting on top of the back of his chair. He stayed like that for a minute, let himself feel angry at the both of them and worried and sad, and then let it all go.

"Where is he J?" His hands fell and he sat forward, shifting his neck and grimacing at the stretch of skin and muscles.

"You would find Sir in the workshop, Master James."

"He left at all?"

"Yes." There was a moment of quiet and then, "He has left three times in the past two weeks."

Bucky groaned, because of course Tony would stop taking care of himself. Idiot. “Alright. Thanks, J.”

"You are most welcome, Master James."

First things first, Bucky wanted a shower. He swore he could smell medical on himself, and he hated it. Reminded him too much things he’d really rather stay forgotten.

It was feeling much better and changed into his most comfortable pair of pajamas (the Captain America bottoms that he and Tony had bought to tease Steve and one of Steve’s shirts) that he paused and thought through how to continue. He settled on heading to the kitchen, grabbing some leftover soup and reheating it. Two bowls in hand, he made his way down to the workshop.

No one could ever hear what was happening inside the lab. Usually, Bucky could feel the vibrations of the music on the glass when he entered his code, but there was nothing today.

Bad, then. Music usually meant Tony was either feeling good or trying to comfort himself. No music meant he wasn’t in the best place. It was a quick way to deduce Tony’s moods that Steve and Bucky had worked out . (It got more complex, breaking down the types of music, but mostly it was just music - still safe; no music - fix immediately; backup may be required.)

He stepped in, taking the whole room in with a glance. The glass had been swept up by Dum-E, he knew, and the wall looked like some minimal (bot) effort had been made to wipe clean the alcohol. There were coffee cups scattered all over, some of them chipped like they’d fallen to the floor. The three bots were working, but Dum-E as usual stopped what he was doing to watch as Bucky approached.

"So, I hear you broke up with us," he said.

Tony startled, jerking around and back, eyes wide and just a bit afraid for a moment before going hard and empty. They were just a bit red; Bucky wondered if he’d been crying, or if it was missing sleep or alcohol.

"The fuck you doing in here?"

"Delivering some food. It’s lunch time. I’m starved. Even a medical run through _you_ serves crappy food, Stark, you need to fix that." Without waiting for an answer or a dismissal, Bucky plopped himself down in one of the many spare chairs in the workshop, rolling it over to the table Tony was still sitting at. He looked the slightest bit baffled, which was good. It wouldn’t do to let Tony find his footing just yet.

Bucky pushed one of the bowls over to him, pulling the other against his chest and putting his feet up on the table.

"I don’t-"

"Don’t even tell me you don’t want it. It’s the leftover meatball soup. Darcy saved some for when I got out."

Tony only hesitated a moment before picking up the spoon. Bucky smiled to himself as he took a bite, pleased.

Tony was always more receptive when he had food. It was a thing, Bucky had yet to entirely tease it out yet but to Tony food somehow equaled emotions and relationships, and Bucky was not above abusing that knowledge. (Steve was the good guy in this relationship, and Tony and Bucky both worked to let him keep that as much as possible. They both had no problems turning into the questionable characters they had been, once upon a time. Still were in many ways.)

Bucky finished his up, waiting for Tony to be done was well.

"So about this break-up thing-"

"I’m done," he echoed from that night with Steve. Bucky thought it sounded empty, like he’d said it so much so he _could_ say it on call. “I’m tired of pretending.”

Bucky nodded understandingly. “Of course. Sounds good.”

He only let the moment last long enough to make Tony think he’d won (to see the flash of hurt pass through his eyes), before he spoke again.

"Tired of pretending what?"

Tony blinked. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged. “What are you tired of pretending? Can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

"I…"

"Because if you’re tired of pretending you love us," he ignored Tony’s flinch at the words, “Then fine, thanks for not leading us on. We’ll get our things out of your space by tonight, I promise.” He eyed Tony. “But if that’s not the case, then we need to talk.”

"I said I’m done with this." Tony’s voice was strained, eyes angry. Bucky would bet he was shaking, fine enough that even his eyesight couldn’t see it but he’d feel it if he touched him. "Is my say not enough here?"

"Damn straight it's not," Bucky replied. He dropped his feet, leaning forward. "Because this thing? It’s got to do with all of us, and I don’t think it’s fair that you make a decision that impacts all of us while rip-roaring drunk and while _one_ of us is in critical condition.”

Tony flinched and turned away, shoulders hunched.

Bucky softened his tone. “Listen, if it’s because you want out of this with us, then fine. But you owe us and yourself the respect of saying so during a discussion when we’re all present and not emotionally fucked up.” He waited, watching Tony closely. “Talk to me.”

It was the same thing they said all the time. On missions, on days when the inner demons were too close to the surface, when simply checking in as they poked into rooms each other were alone in. It made Tony release a shaky breath.

"I’m… I can’t do this Barnes." Tony sounded scared, or as close as he ever let himself get to expressing it. It made Bucky want to get up and grab him close, but now wasn’t the right time for it. "I can’t keep pretending that I’m not a fuck up. I… fuck everything up, always have, I-"

"You know, I’m seriously considering asking Richards’ to pay us back for all the times we cleaned up his disasters by making a time machine, just so I can fucking punch Howard in the face a couple times."

Tony made a choking sound, half laugh and half usual protest.

Bucky didn’t mention it’d been Steve’s idea to use Richards to make it possible.

"I just…" Tony’s hands ran through his hair, just this side of frantic. "Bucky, I’m a mess. I’m always a mess, and you two - you put up with so much shit from me, and-"

"Tony, we’ve-"

"I’m why you were in medical for two weeks!" he shouted, eyes wide. "I fucked up so badly they weren’t sure you’d make it, and then Steve comes down here acting like he’s not pissed at me for the bad call and for drinking so damn much and I can’t - I’m done, I’m not gonna drag you two down-"

Bucky held himself in place, held his temper in check. His voice still came out too dangerous, too close to the Winter Soldier, than he’d have liked. “I am so close to punching you right now Tony, you fucking dick.”

Tony gaped at him. “Do it. I deserve-“

"Shut up," he snapped, sitting forward. "You shut up. And listen, because I will repeat it if you don’t. You are the _best_ thing to happen to me in this time. I’d have been happy with Steve, don’t get me wrong, I love the bastard, but you? Damn it, Tony, you made things _better_ and not once did you make excuses for me or for any of the others. I needed that. And now, now I have this _perfect_ thing with you and Steve, and it works even though all three of us should be so far beyond healthy relationships. We shouldn’t work,” he said certainly. “There is no way we should actually work, but we do. You take even a piece out of this… this equation, and it’s not gonna work right anymore.” He narrowed his eyes. “You are not pretending you’re not a fuck up, you are realizing you are better.”

"I’m not-"

"You are. You don’t give yourself enough credit."

Tony smiled, but it wasn’t happy. “Rhodey says the same damn thing. You been talking to him?”

Bucky snorted. “Rhodes keeps waiting for me to lose my shit and kill you in your sleep.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Is not.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but just hummed “Mhm.” and moved on.

"Listen. I… I know we’re not easy." Tony startled, looking at Bucky like he was crazy and yes, this was the way to do it. "I know that I still can’t quite get the team thing down, that some days I’m fucking terrifying and yet you’re still there. I appreciate that, I do. And Steve - Steve’s a fucking stubborn shit who ends up making you feel judged even if you know what you did was right. He was like that when he was small and he’s like it now only it’s worse cause he’s got that whole…" Bucky waved his hand. "Captain America persona." He grimaced. "Sometimes I wish they’d left him be," he murmured.

Tony watched him silently.

"All three of us are selfish shits," Bucky said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "If it came down to one of us or the world? Well, I know for fucking sure which I’d chose, and I’m not ashamed of that."

"I would," Tony whispered. "If it was you two or the world, I’d make that decision in a heartbeat. Even if you hated me for it."

Bucky figured that the others would hate whoever made such a decision. They should probably list ‘self worth issues’ among that list he’d just been making. There was a few moments of silence, including Tony shifting uncomfortably.

"Steve..." Tony shifted some more, ran his hands through his hair briskly. "He's, he's not going to be - I told you, I _fuck things up_. He's not just going to..."

"You pissed him off," Bucky said frankly. "And if he decides to punch you or not forgive or whatever, I’m not going to stop him. You were an ass, and you knew exactly what you were doing."

Tony shrugged, but didn’t deny it. Didn’t have to with the way his eyes slipped to the floor.

"But I’m not going to let him throw you away like that either," he said, ducking his head a bit in a bid to get Tony to look at him. "Alright? He made mistakes too, and instead of trying to fix things he’s been sulking."

Tony beat out a pattern over the reactor, his eyes darting from Bucky’s and back again. “You… you think I should apologize.”

Bucky raised a brow. “Nah. I think you should get JARVIS to call Steve down here, though, so we can _talk_.” He huffed. “Which all three of us really suck at, so it’ll be a fucking blast of course.”

Tony’s lips twitched, but then he was shifting nervously, nodding and telling JARVIS to ‘do it, hell, shit.’ Bucky watched as Tony got up to pace. He kept pacing the entire eighteen minutes it took for Steve to show up, which only made Tony have a small freak out about if he was coming or not.

It was mostly Steve being an ass, and Bucky gave him a dark look for it when he walked in. Steve faltered only for a moment. Bucky decided he’d kick his ass in training for it.

"What do you want, Stark?" Steve stopped, arms crossed and legs shoulder-width apart.

"You’re being petty Steve," Bucky drawled, even though he could feel the anger curdling though him. "Knock it off."

"I’m sorry, I thought you said you were-"

"Going to my floor, yeah, I did. Took a shower, made some lunch. Brought some to Tony, since we all know how bad he is at taking care of himself when something goes wrong in the field." He pinned Steve with a look and was pleased to see him flinch, just a bit.

Good. Maybe he’d started to actually think and realized where he’d fucked up as well.

Bucky looked back to Tony. “Alright, let’s clear the air. Tony?”

He was coiled like he was about to spring into action, but his posture, his body language, was all defensive. (Steve hadn’t dug farther into Tony’s childhood than anything Tony had shared. Bucky had. He'd found enough and seen enough of Tony's actions now to know that Howard had been a shit father. Bucky wondered if this was how Tony had acted whenever Howard confronted him.) He wouldn’t look at them, and his voice was almost an indistinguishable mutter, but they understood him.

"I might have made you think that I wasn’t… that the pretending thing had to do with the relationship. On purpose. So that you would…"

Steve’s eyes closed. He looked pained for a long moment. “So I’d let you break up with us.”

Tony shrugged. “Seemed better for you.”

His eyes snapped open, and he looked horrified and upset. “Tony… You… Don’t you know…” He glanced helplessly at Bucky, who just stared back with raised brows. He was not saving Steve’s ass in this. (He’d already told Tony how _he_ felt.)

Steve focused back on Tony, taking a cautious step forward. “I was worried about you, and I… I was scared for Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have… I am so sorry, Tony, for taking that out on you.”

Tony was shaking his head. “Listen, I’m an ass, I threw a _bottle_ at you, Cap, I-“

"I’m sorry."

"Stop… stop _saying that,_ you have nothing-“

"I’m sorry for letting you still think that you’re not exactly what I want, Tony." That seemed to work, because Tony didn’t respond, staring at the floor, and Steve continued. "If… if I never made it clear, how much I love you, then I am sorry. I must have, since you're still convinced we’re going to someday think that you’re not enough for us."

"Try the other way around," Bucky offered. "Steve and I have discussed plans for wooing you back to us when you go after someone younger and not so reckless."

Tony sputtered, looking both offended and distressed. “I - you - don’t talk about yourselves like-“

"Like you talk about yourself?" Bucky gave him a pointed look.

Steve stepped forward, slowly, until he could reach out and take Tony’s hand. “Listen, I know… I know we really need to talk this all out, we do, but… I need to hear you say it.” Steve’s voice did that thing where it went slightly hoarse. It didn’t break, but it was as good as. “That you still want us.”

"Of course I do," Tony said instantly. "I just thought that-"

Steve cupped his face, making Tony’s words grind to a halt, and after a moment of being sure he wasn't going to say anything else kissed him gently on the lips. A good bit of Tony’s tension slipped away and Steve sighed like he’d finally relaxed when he pulled away.

"One thing, before we go upstairs and talk this out and then order the greasiest fast food possible." Tony and Steve both looked at Bucky, questioning. He narrowed his eyes. "You tell us where you stashed that booze and let us take it away."

Tony hesitated, long enough that Steve started to look worried. Bucky stared him down, unwilling to bend on this one.

"You said you wanted to do better with your drinking. Let us help." Steve’s voice was soft. "It’s okay to need help, Tony. We're... you don't have to _stop_ but that, that was scary. It was dangerous."

Tony looked between them, fingers twitching over his reactor again. They stilled and he closed his eyes.

"JARVIS?"

"Sir keeps the alcohol in second reinforced cabinet to the left of the charging stations. The code is 278569."

"Thanks," Steve said softly, pulling Tony against him. "We’ll help, okay? It’ll be fine."

Tony nodded, shifting away gently, and gesturing at the door. “Should we… go talk now?”

Bucky hopped up, wrapping an arm up around Tony and clamping the back of his neck with an encouraging squeeze. “Just clearing the air. Making sure we’re all on the same page. Establishing the rule that no one gets to break up with the others unless all three of us are present, sober, and not freaking the fuck out.”

Steve chuckled. “Who made you in charge of this?” he teased.

Bucky scoffed. “Seeing as I was the only one not to be part of this fiasco of a break-up, I think that automatically makes me in charge.”

Tony’s side brushed against his. Bucky knew it was on purpose, and he smiled down at him. “Alright, we’ll let you be in charge for now.” Though the words were as teasing as Steve’s had been, the look he gave Bucky was all relief and gratitude.

Bucky kissed his forehead and pulled him closer.

Idiot. Like Bucky'd let him self-sabotage without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There see? I fixed it. I can't ever LEAVE them broken, I'm compelled to fix things.
> 
> Also, in case you were all wondering, I'm feeling much better finally. :)


	33. Must be a day ending in y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of Richards last chapter...
> 
> Takes place probably two or three months later.

Steve returned from his morning run (he said it was with Sam, and Sam said that would require them to run near each other more often than not) to find Bucky and Tony slumped at opposite ends of the kitchen table. Tony’s hands were clutching a mug of coffee that he was staring into, blinking sleepily. Bucky’s eyes were closed, head held in the palm of a hand.

"Morning," Steve greeted. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water. Leaning back against the counter, he watched them in amusement. Tony grunted, Bucky blinked his eyes open and managed a slight smile.

"Breakfast?"

Bucky nodded, sitting up and yawning. He grabbed Tony’s coffee when he finished a long drink, pushing to his feet and going to the machine to make another. Steve gently bumped his hips against Bucky’s, waited until he glanced over, then leaned over to kiss his cheek.

Tony was watching with a small smile. When Bucky brought his coffee over, he wrapped both hands around it, tilting his head up and leaning forward. Bucky obliged with a soft kiss.

Steve had finished gathering all the things for omelets and was whipping the yolks and milk together. Bucky stretched, waking himself up further, and stepped forward to start chopping the leftover steak.

"I was thinking that we could-"

The alarm blared.

Bucky sighed, dusting his hands off on the sides of his pajama pants, and started rushing towards the door, Steve right behind him.

Tony groaned, quickly drinking his coffee before following. “Must be a day ending in y,” he muttered, scowling. “JARVIS?”

"It appears that a portal has opened in Central Park. Nothing has yet to come through, however-"

"Did Richards have something to do with this?" Tony’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he paused in pulling on the undersuit for his armor.

"Signs do point to Dr. Richards having a hand in events."

"Definitely a day ending in y." Tony rolled his eyes. "And the Fantastic Four?"

"It seems they are several states away."

"Always are," Bucky remarked dryly. "I’ve sensed a theme, you know."

"Richards causes a mess and is conveniently not around to clean it up? Yeah."

"Come on, you two, let’s just get there and take a look at things."

"If this Richards guy fucks with another date of ours, I’m going to find a way to make him dangle from the top of his tower," Bucky muttered.

Tony grinned. “I’ll help.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “The longer we take to get there…”

"Yeah, yeah." Tony waved a hand, still grinning. He started heading for the balcony. "I’ll meet you guys there, do some recon." The suit assembled around him as he walked backwards. "Bruce’ll know which equipment to bring, I’ve already got a quinjet preloaded with that stuff. That’s how often Richards messes up Steve. You should give him the Disappointed Captain America stare." With a laugh, the mask settled into place and Tony tipped off the edge of the tower, gone from view for a few seconds before blasting back up. He saluted playfully before taking off.

"He’s got a point," Bucky said, checking his last weapon and putting it in place. "About the regularity of Richards’ fuck-ups, and that you should look at him all disappointed. Might get us a week or three of a break."

"I want to get to our date today as much as you two do," Steve pointed out. "If Richards fucks it up, I’m going over his head to Sue."

Bucky laughed brightly. “Now that’s mean, Steve.”


	34. Bonus Drabble 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That time moon and I actually started purposefully referencing our fics...
> 
> aka: Bucky wants a pet and Tony thinks this is not a good plan.

"Clint has a dog."

Tony snorted. “More like the dog has Clint and became his bodyguard. Swear, if not for Lucky, Clint’d wind up dead when we’re not looking.”

"Natasha has a cat."

"Darcy has a cat," Natasha corrected from the kitchen bar, flipping a page in her magazine.

Bucky gave her an exasperated look.

Tony chuckled into his coffee, leaning back against the counter. He smirked at Bucky, whose eyes narrowed in challenge.

"Steve wants one," he said decisively.

They both looked at Steve. He looked up from his breakfast and immediately raised his hands, brows shooting up.

"Hey, I’m not gonna be part of this."

Bucky rolled his eyes. Tony eyed him, taking another sip of coffee.

"How about a fish?"

"No."

Tony set his coffee down, crossing his arms and turning to face Bucky. (It was instinctive now for Bucky to analyze if Tony’s posture was defensive or not. It wasn’t.) “I’ll forget to feed it.”

"So I will."

"And if you or Steve are on a mission? You guys are gone for a week or two at a time more often than not! None of us are exactly home all the time."

"If none of us are here, one of the others will help. Or Darcy."

Tony pointed a finger. “We are not letting Darcy corrupt our dog, too.”

Bucky grinned, straightening a bit. “So we’re getting one?”

"What? I - Of course not!" Tony rolled his eyes with his entire head.

Stepping forward, Bucky curled his hands around Tony’s hips. “Please.”

"Nuh-uh."

Steve watched curiously, finishing his plate. Bucky drifted a kiss across the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Please Tony?” He brushed another kiss high across his cheek. “Please?” His forehead settled against Tony’s eyes close, tips of their noses brushing.

Tony closed his eyes, arms falling to his sides.

"This is a horrible idea." He pulled back from Bucky’s enthusiastic kiss after only a few moments, hands braced on his shoulders. "This is all on you and Steve. Your responsibility."

Steve raised a brow. “I said I wanted nothing to do with this,” he said mildly.

Tony waved a hand at him, pulling back sharply from another kiss. He panted a bit before saying, “Don’t even with me, Rogers. I know you better than that.”

Grinning, Steve said, “Fair enough.” He got up to rinse his plate while Bucky kept plying Tony with kisses.

As he passed Nat, she muttered, “Nice tactics there, Cap.”

He stopped fighting off his smug grin and winked at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve totally planned this out.
> 
> If you haven't yet, start checking out the Pet AU that is moon's part of this. Things are going to start referencing and coinciding pretty heavily in these last handful of drabbles.
> 
> Pet AU: moonrose91(dot)tumblr(dot)com/nat/darce&phil/clintpetau


	35. Can I tell you a secret?

When Steve and Bucky had been little kids, they’d promised to tell each other everything. No secrets, and they’d shook on it. They’d kept that promise, for years of their lives. (Even when they tried to keep something secret, it didn’t work out; Bucky found Steve right after his mom’s funeral, and Steve found out about the money troubles Bucky’s family was suffering.)

Then the war, and Bucky was shipped out, and Steve joined Project Rebirth, and the secrets started, and both of them were just changed enough from before it all started that they didn’t always catch the tells.

Tony couldn’t remember a day when he hadn’t been keeping some sort of secret. When he’d been little, he hadn’t been very good at it, but he’d learned fast. Howard never knew anything Tony didn’t want him to by the time he was eight, and Maria didn’t know about the dangerous experiments Tony did, and the people at the parties never knew a single real thing about Tony Stark.

Very few people knew what Tony Stark keeping a secret looked like, and none were left that could tell when he was lying if he really put his all into it. When he’d been young, only Jarvis had seemed to know, more often than not, if Tony was hiding something. Then Jarvis had died along with Tony’s parents, and Rhodey had started keeping a closer eye on Tony. He’d started noticing things, things Tony fought to keep hidden and didn’t always succeed at with Rhodey.

Then there was Pepper, always there and keeping him from slipping away from SI responsibilities, and somehow seeing him better than anyone in a long time. (When he’d been dying she had known he wasn’t telling her something, while everyone else - even Rhodey for a while - hadn’t seen the secret he was hiding. Course, then Rhodey had gone and saw the poisoning creeping up his neck…)

Tony was a master at keeping secrets, even from himself if he was particularly determined. He didn’t share easily. Of course, he was usually surrounded by people who kept just as many secrets as he did (former-SHIELD, socialites, the SI board) so it was a skill he was glad to have.

Except when it came to his relationships.

Never seemed to work out well there. He’d had to work at breaking the habit with Pepper, and now he had Steve and Bucky both, and somehow they saw through to what he tried to hide far too easily. Bucky, especially, nearly always knew when he was hiding something.

He wasn’t nearly as good at knowing when they were keeping secrets. A part of him was disgruntled by that, now more than usual.

He shook his head and leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic seat, throwing his feet up on the bed. He made sure one landed over Bucky’s.

"Lying fucker," he muttered.

Bucky made rough sound. “Yeah. Next time, I’ll pin him to the ground and you scan him.”

"Deal."

Steve needed to learn that keeping injuries secret was a Big No in this relationship. Tony looked forward to bringing it up constantly until he was as annoyed as possible and gave in to make Tony stop. Who knew how Bucky would get the lesson into Steve; it usually seemed to be some cross between sincere talks and physical violence. Tony left them to it, their weird communication methods developed long ago.

"Probably figured it’d heal and not be an issue," Bucky muttered, sounding disgusted, a few minutes later. His arms crossed and he sank further in the seat. "Son of a bitch still thinks that serum made him goddamned invincible."

Tony glanced at him. “We’re all bad at announcing when we’re injured.” He wasn’t usually that honest about himself, but he thought Bucky was in no mood for him pretending not to be as bad as they were. “But yeah, that’s probably what he was thinking.”

"You’ve got JARVIS to tell you when you actually need to fess up, and he’ll tell Steve or I if you’re being stubborn about it."

"Traitor," Tony muttered, just on principle. It got him a thin, small smile from Bucky.

"And I am usually either deep enough in the programming that I want to announce injuries that will affect performance that badly, or I’ll actually go to medical."

"You mean to Bruce," Tony pointed out.

Bucky shrugged, obviously not seeing much of a difference. Tony was sure - okay, he _knew_ Bruce would argue otherwise, but Tony was with Bucky on this one. Medical, Bruce… so long as someone checked him out he didn’t see the fuss.

Tony stretched out his foot until the flat of it was lightly pressing against Steve’s leg, warm and solid.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Tony looked over, brows raising in surprise. Bucky was staring at Steve, a look on his face that Tony wasn’t used to seeing there. It was concerned and distant, almost desperate and too focused.

He looked over at Tony, waiting. Tony nodded silently. It was obvious this was a secret that wasn’t to be shared, not even with Steve, and Tony felt the weight of Bucky’s trust deep inside, not heavy but constant and warm.

"Back when I first saw what had happened, I wished Steve had never gotten the serum. I wanted him to have stayed that little punk, because I could protect _him_. Even if he got himself beat up, I could still keep him from getting himself killed. But… not after. After I just had to run after him and hope I could keep up enough to watch his back.

"And I got over it, mostly. I figured out more ways to protect his ass, since he never was all that interested in doing it himself. And I’m glad he has it, now, because if not I’d have died on that damn dirty table probably, and he’d have died in that fucking plane, and you’d be alone here."

Tony swallowed, thickly, and reached out to lace his fingers with Bucky’s. They were warm, metal, and squeezed back.

"But I used to wish he’d stayed small because it’d be easier for me, and in moments like this…."

"Like you said," Tony whispered, "we’re all pretty selfish."

Bucky offered a wry smile. “Yeah.”

Tony didn’t say that he’d rather they have gone through all the suffering they had, so he could have them _now_ , than to spare them. That if he could, he’d have to really fight with himself over what to do, over whether it’d be the right thing to make sure they never did suffer or to let it happen, just because he wanted them with him.

He didn’t have to say it, though. Bucky’s smile was understanding, and he lifted Tony’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it. “Yeah,” he repeated.

"Wha…?"

Tony looked over at Steve and then pointedly kicked his leg with the foot resting there. “You are so busted, Rogers, you have lost all lecturing privileges for a month, and that includes the Disappointed Face, I am going to do so many things…”

Bucky just grinned when Steve glanced groggily at him. “Don’t look at me, I’m gonna kick your ass from here back to the Forties.”

Tony made an annoyed sound. “Excuse you, I was telling Steve about all the ways I’ll be breaking his rules here. Wait your turn.”


	36. Bonus Drabble 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Steve draws Bucky and Tony in a sleeping pile" requested by - you guessed it - my darling moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By this point, The Naming of a Puppy has totally taken place, so... read that if you haven't. Also referenced is Epic Road Trip the Second.
> 
> Concerning the last one, you may want to check out a few drabbles on my tumblr (insaneandobsessed) tagged Epic Road Trip the Second. (There are two - one is a BroTP drabble of Clint and Tony, the other is something moon wrote that I wrote a response to about the start of Epic Road Trip the Second.)

Steve slipped into the room as silently as he’d ever moved, hoping that he’d not wake Bucky. It seemed he was having a lucky afternoon, because neither of his boyfriends even twitched. (Peggy, curled up in a patch of sunlight on the floor nearby, looked up and wagged her tail a little before settling back down.)

The time he’d been apart from them had been… strange. Steve wouldn’t call it fun, because chasing after them and seeing all the destruction left behind and _not knowing_ if they were _really_ okay hadn’t been fun, and he’d missed them terribly.

Steve hadn’t realized how used to having them around all the time he had gotten, and then they weren’t there to bother him or be just a floor away, and he’d ached with missing them. Listening to them talk, bicker, watching them wrestle for the remote, fight over the pillows in their bed, seeing them all the time whenever he needed or wanted to.

Right now, both of them were fast asleep, tangled together on the couch in their Bucky’s living quarters that were never used unless they wanted privacy. The sun shone in through the windows from the side of the couch, casting complex shadows and patches of bright light over the two. It reflected off of Bucky’s fingers, wrapped with Tony’s, caught the top of Tony’s hair, where Bucky had buried his face. Bucky was in sweats and one of Steve’s shirts, Tony in his workshop clothes - that tank did ridiculous things to both Steve and Bucky, and Tony knew it.

He settled in the armchair, his sketchpad in his lap, pencil in hand, and got comfortable. Hopefully they wouldn’t wake up soon. He wanted to get all the details right, but just in case he’d make sure to keep the first go quick and loose.

Steve lost track of time. At some point, Peggy had moved from her spot in the sun to stretch out over Steve’s feet, chewing on one of the little pig’s ears someone had gotten her. He was working on the relaxed, small part of Tony’s lips when Bucky made a hoarse, questioning sound.

Glancing up, Steve immediately smiled. The strands of hair in the front that didn’t fit well into a ponytail had come loose and were rucked up in odd positions, and Bucky blinked at him sleepily from behind Tony’s shoulder.

"Time’s’t?"

Checking the clock, Steve said, “Just a bit after five.”

Bucky hummed, ducking to kiss Tony’s shoulder and blinking slowly.

"You two okay?"

Because even though they’d looked… perfect lying there, with the sunlight and the shadows, Bucky’s floor was where they went when they wanted space.

Bucky sucked in a breath, like the start of a yawn, but it just came out in a sharp, heavy sigh. “Think so.”

Steve waited, brow raised, and Bucky smirked at him lazily. “I’m fine. He was just needing some quiet space away from all those ideas of his.”

"Ah."

"Should be good; he’s always better after some sleep."

Steve set the sketchbook aside; it was really done, he’d just been perfecting the details. He stretched, groaning softly at the pull of muscles gone stiff, the crack of his back from hunching forward. “I’ll start cooking something for dinner. Maybe we could go out for dessert?”

"I’d like that." Bucky smiled, settling back on the couch. Tony made a whining mumble and turned, burying his face into Bucky’s chest with a frown. Steve went over to brush a kiss against Tony’s hair, then stretch a bit to get to Bucky’s lips, before moving into the kitchen. Peggy followed after him, claws making muted clicks against the floor.

It was good to have them back.


	37. Come on.

"Nope. Don’t wanna." Tony pushed so his chair rolled across the workshop to the table with his project, the holographic blueprint following him. Dum-E paused where he was playing with Peggy to chirp curiously. Tony waved him off, and he went back to the puppy.

"Tony," Steve sighed. It was almost a whine, except Steve never whined. He did like to sound sad though if Tony was doing something he didn’t like or want him to do.

"Steve," he mocked, glancing over only briefly before focusing on his work.

"Bucky’s even going."

"Good for him."

"It’s a barbeque, why don’t you want to go?"

Tony glanced over, raising a brow. “Do I look like the kind of guy to enjoy a backyard barbeque Steve?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Is this another ‘I’m going to avoid social situations I’m unfamiliar with’ thing? Because if I remember correctly, you told me that-“

"It is not," Tony muttered. "It’s a ‘I don’t like backyard barbeques’ thing."

"Well why not?" Steve sounded genuinely curious, confused. Tony glanced over and sure enough he had that little puzzled furrow between his brows. Sighing, Tony focused on the project in his hands.

"I just don’t. Can’t that be enough for now?"

"Yeah. Okay." Steve answered after a few minutes. He came closer, resting a hand on Tony’s shoulder as he bent down to kiss the top of his head. Tony closed his eyes.

"If you change your mind, the address for Sam’s new place is in your phone."

Tony hummed, watching out of the corner of his eye as Steve went over to pick up Peggy and walked out of the workshop. His ass looked really good in those jeans; Tony needed to give whoever had convinced Steve to buy those a bonus check.

He tried focusing on the technology in his hands, but again and again his mind kept slipping away to Steve and Bucky. Natasha had been planning to go with them, but he didn’t know about any of the others.

It was quiet, even after he had Jarvis turn on the music. Tony groaned, tossing down his work and letting his head fall back. “Fuck my life.”

Fifteen minutes later he was changed into something a little less grease stained and sliding into one of his cars. Jarvis had pulled up the directions already, so all Tony had to do was not crash into anyone.

He didn’t bring any alcohol along. He knew it was a thing, to bring a housewarming gift (usually alcohol for a barbeque) but… no.

There was plenty there that he could see when he arrived. None of it was high end stuff, more the kind that Clint had kept at his little hidey-hole apartment he used to have. Tony’s fingers still twitched.

He heard Peggy bark, and then she was at his feet, leaping up against his legs.

"Down," he reminded her, repeating it again more firmly when she didn’t listen right away. He waited until she sat down, tail going wild behind her, before he crouched to rub behind her ears, smiling a bit. "Where’s Oldie One and Two?"

"Ha, ha, Stark," Bucky drawled. Tony looked up, grinning. Bucky had a small sunburn started across his cheeks and the flesh of his shoulders. It probably went along the back of his neck too, with his hair pulled back like that, but Tony couldn’t see from here. There was a beer in his hand, hanging loosely from between two curled fingers.

"Tony!" Steve came up, pulling him into a brief hug before stepping back. He looked extremely pleased. "Changed your mind?"

Tony shrugged. “Was bored.” He brushed his hands along the sides of his jeans, looking around. “Did I miss the food?”

"No, there’s plenty," Steve laughed. He led the way over, talking about what he and Sam had cooked, what other people had brought. Bucky was right behind them, Peggy following at his side.

"Hey, man," Sam greeted. "Glad you could make it after all." Tony shook his hand, bringing up a smile that was only slightly forced. He liked Sam, as a person and a teammate. He was a good friend for Steve, and for Bucky, and he didn’t bring up Tony’s various issues all the time like some people so he was okay in Tony’s book.

"Go ahead and grab a plate - it’s not fine dining, just grab whatever," he teased. "There should be some cold ones in the cooler over there," he added, turning the barbequed chicken over.

Tony felt his smile become just a bit tight and turned away quickly.

Almost an hour later he was fighting not to fidget, though his fingers kept twitching. Every time they did, he reached out to run them through Peggy’s fur.

Natasha sidled up to him. “You doing okay?” Her voice was quiet, no one around them seeming to hear her or even be listening. Tony still glanced around quickly, uneasily.

"Yes."

The little smile on her face was gentle. At least it was real, Tony had learned the difference between her fake-gentle (Natalie Rushman smiles, he called them) and the real ones (less intense but similar to the ones she gave Darcy or Clint). “Liar.”

He shrugged, digging his fingers through Peggy’s fur again. He stopped his foot from tapping. “It’s not easy,” he muttered. He had to drag his eyes away from where someone had brought out a couple things of punch and a bottle of flavored vodka. “I’m fine.”

She hummed. “Because if you weren’t, it’d be okay.”

"I’m fine."

"Okay," she agreed. She stretched out against the fence next to him. "Did you get a chance to fix the bug in the communicators?"

Tony gratefully latched onto the change of topic (the distraction, bless Natasha) and started rambling, hands gesturing wildly. A good outlet for the twitching energy. Peggy fell asleep over his feet while he and Natasha debated solutions. Tony wanted to make them smaller and clearer, and Natasha thought that he needed to focus on making them stay in place and cover greater distances more.

"How’s Darcy?" he asked finally. "Not here?"

"No, she’s working today. Phil has some paperwork he’s behind on."

Tony ignored the pointed look. It wasn’t his fault they wanted him to do the mechanic thing and the paperwork thing. If he had to do both, he’d put the paperwork off as long as possible. Just ask Pepper.

"But she’s good?" Tony checked.

Natasha’s smile crept just a little bit farther across her face. “Yes Tony. She’s good.”

"Good." He drummed his fingers on his thigh, eyes trying to find somewhere that he wouldn’t end up staring at alcohol. "This is fucking hard," he blurted.

"Hey, there you are!" Steve shifted through the crowd of people, smile slowly falling as he glanced between them. "What’s wrong?" He looked at Natasha only briefly. "Tony?"

Tony bit the inside of his cheek and smiled.

It only seemed to make Steve more concerned. “Bucky!” he called, looking back and gesturing. Tony’s eyes went wide and he held up his hands.

"Whoa, no, hold up, why are you doing that? It’s good, I’m fine, go have fun. No, wait, we don’t need to-"

Bucky’s eyes were sharp. Tony did not shrink under them. He didn’t.

"Come on," Bucky murmured, fingers tangling with Tony’s to pull him away from the crowd, inside where there were few if any people. Steve talked with Natasha for a moment before he followed.

"This is unnecessary," Tony muttered.

"Humor us," Bucky said. The air inside the house was much cooler than outside, even in the shade as Tony had been. Bucky definitely had a bit of a sunburn. Steve just looked tan; serum probably.

"What’s wrong?"

Tony ducked away from Steve’s hand that had reached towards his face, fighting the grimace back. “Nothing. Can we go back outside now?”

"Not until you start talking to us." Steve straightened, arms crossing, and it was cheating how he pulled out the whole Captain America posture. Tony sighed.

"I told you, I don’t really do backyard barbeques."

"Yeah," Steve agreed slowly. "Never told me why though."

Tony did grimace, crossing his arms. “Do I need a reason?”

"Tony." Bucky pushed the hair that always escaped the ponytail back with his metal fingers. "We’re not… We’re not trying to corner you here, we just want to help. Something’s up. We know there is, so talk to us."

"You’re cheating," he accused, glancing away from them. So sincere and way too many emotions that Tony didn’t feel up to actually naming right then.

"If it means helping you I will play as dirty as necessary."

They stood there, trying to wait each other out, for several minutes. As usually seemed to be the case, Tony caved.

"It’s… I’ve been trying…" He ground his teeth together and then fought each word past them. "I’ve been trying not to. Drink. At - at all."

"Why didn’t you tell us?" Steve asked. "I thought you were just trying to cut back?"

"Yeah well." He couldn’t actually think of anything to say to that so he just shrugged.

"Jesus, Tony," Bucky sighed, glancing over his shoulder out the window.

Tony looked between them. “Look, I’m fine, I… I’m not going to crack or something. It’s not easy,” he added when Bucky looked ready to protest. “But I’m _fine_.”

"You’ll tell us if that changes?" Steve narrowed his eyes. "I mean it Tony, we’ll listen so long as you promise me you’re going to tell us the instant it gets to be too much."

He gestured. “I can just go, you don’t need to-“

"Tony."

He sighed. “Yes, alright, fine. If I become not-fine, I will let you know.”

"Thank you." Steve stepped over to the backdoor again, holding it open for Bucky and Tony to pass by. He settled his hand on the small of Tony’s back as he followed, thumb rubbing a warm little circle there. "Love you," he whispered.

Tony smiled back at him. “You too.”

They rejoined Natasha, who was absently scratching Peggy under the chin as her eyes ran calmly over the crowd. Sam appeared sometime later, enjoying what was looking to be a very good buzz, brandishing a plate of freshly made smores by ‘Marlene, she’s my new neighbor, her boys said it wasn’t a barbeque without smores.’

Bucky all but pounced on them, taking three before the rest of them had even grabbed one.

Steve was grinning at him, eyes laughing.

"Shut it, Steve."

Tony chuckled, holding his carefully between two fingers and trying to figure out the best place to take a bite. Smores were tricky things to eat, and he’d never had much practice with them.

The sun was starting to set when Tony finally had had enough. He grabbed Steve’s hand as he walked by, heading for the food table again. Tony didn’t even have to say anything. Steve nodded and smiled softly, whistling to get Bucky’s attention and nodding towards the gate.

They said their goodbyes, not lingering. Steve steered Tony out ahead of him, hands resting over his shoulders as they shifted through the crowd. Tony had long given up on trying to keep his fingers still and let them tap out an anxious beat over his reactor.

"Almost there," Steve breathed into his hair. "You’re good Tony, almost."

Bucky met them at the curb with Peggy on her leash. Steve tossed him the keys and they kissed, briefly, before Bucky slid into the car.

Steve turned to Tony. “Where are you parked?”

Tony led the way down the block a ways, glancing over at Steve walking next to him. Steve had a slight smile on his face as he walked, arm brushing Tony’s every few steps. He didn’t even hesitate before getting in the passenger side of the car and it made Tony pause a moment.

He dragged in a deep breath and let it out, smiling. Sliding in, he leaned over to pull Steve into a kiss, fingers running up and through the fine hairs at the top of Steve’s neck.

"Thank you."

Steve smiled, brushing a thumb over Tony’s cheek. “Any time.”


	38. If there's one thing the world needs more of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end...

"I don’t even fucking know what to say to this right now," Bucky blurted, blinking rapidly.

"How about ‘Richards needs to get his fucking ass kicked?’" Tony offered, scowling and looking murderous.

Steve shot them both exasperated looks, but he didn’t say anything. Because frankly, he agreed.

"Can all of the superheroes get together and vote to remove Richards’ multiverse study privileges?" Tony crossed his arms.

Bucky’s mouth tightened, eyes darting from Tony to where Tony was staring. At another Bucky and another Steve, who were not looking very nice as they glanced at either Tony.

It set Bucky on edge. One that their Tony was feeling defensive against… against the not-thems (but still them, it was Steve and it was Bucky and the way Tony was acting towards the other them felt something like a punch to the gut). Two… the other Tony kept strict distance between them, paid attention closely whenever they moved and was constantly shifting to keep out of reach.

It made Bucky feel sick. He wasn’t an idiot. It was all too clear that whatever shit was happening or had happened in that other universe, it was not anything good.

Richards huffed at them from across the room, visibly irritated. Both Steves glared at him.

"At least we didn’t get another Richards," Tony muttered, shifting closer to Bucky. Bucky thought it might have been an unconscious move in response to the other Bucky glaring at him. "If there’s one thing the world needs more of…" he trailed off, the sarcastic tone too strained.

Bucky gave the other-him a cold look. If he thought Tony would let him, he’d tug him closer and make it perfectly clear that the other-Bucky was not going to be allowed to hurt this Tony, as well. Tony would _not_ take that well, however, and so he didn’t do it.

He did step closer however. “Don’t jinx us. He hasn’t fixed it yet, for all we know we’ll get ten Richards and then where will we be?”

"Don’t even joke about that." Tony sounded horrified. The other-Tony snorted, a quick smirk flickering over his lips before it dropped completely away as the other-Steve glanced sharply at him.

"Listen, this will take time-"

"No, fix it now." The other-Tony straightened and focused on Richards. "If you need help, fine, I’ll do it, but we can’t be gone as long as you’re gonna say it’ll take. You’ll drag it out." His eyes narrowed. It was a darker look than Bucky had ever seen on their-Tony’s face. "No time for studies, Richards, send us back."

"Not sure I’d trust you to help him and not-" Other-Bucky started.

Their-Steve cut him off. “Tony,” and when both looked at him he cleared his throat and said, “ _Our_ Tony.” The other made a harsh noise and looked pointedly away. Steve’s eyes lingered for just a moment before focusing on Tony and Bucky. “Call the Tower, make sure the others know what happened and that we’ll _all_ be staying here until it’s fixed.” His gaze moved to the others and sharpened. “Two Tonys is bound to be more helpful than one, and we’re not leaving you alone here.”

Tony looked like he thought of protesting that, but a glance at the other-them silenced him. He nodded once and pulled out his cell. “Hey, Legolas, so Richards called us because he fucked up the multiverse, _again…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, brief note so that you guys know about when this is all taking place... Maybe a month or two after the last one? I don't think it's happened AFTER the plot that moon and I are currently writing, but I'm not willing to set that in stone just yet. Will consult with moon (damn timelines...) and let you all know for sure next chapter.


	39. Are you f*cking kidding me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this little subplot takes place just a little bit after Epic Road Trip the Second, which was referenced back in chapter 36. That means these last five chapters all take place in the same one or two month span. These last three are all in the same week or two.

"Richards, I am going to throw you into your own damn portal machine, I swear to god!" Tony snapped, slamming a wrench down. Other-Tony glanced over, slowly setting down his tools. He wiped his hands on his slacks, straightening and glancing between them.

Richards sighed, that ‘everyone is so irritating and below me’ sigh that set Tony’s teeth on edge. “Stark, if you would just stop questioning every decision I make-“

Other-Tony made an impatient sound. “Probably one of our smarter decisions, considering.”

The Other-Steve and Other-Bucky weren’t allowed in the same room as them, at least not unless Tony’s Steve and Bucky were also there. Normally he’d think they were being ridiculous, but Tony was a genius and he knew himself well enough to figure that Other-Him had done something, something that Other-Steve and Other-Bucky did not like at all. That made them hate him. Hate him enough that Tony was worried for his safety, like they might take preventative action and get rid of him or something.

Point was, Other-Tony kept to himself, and barely spoke unless the others weren’t in the same room.

Richards shook his head, turning back to his equations, and Tony muttered to himself as he moved over to where Other-Tony was, throwing himself into a chair. He picked up a part that Other-Tony had set aside, frowning as he examined the frayed wires before tossing it aside with a disgusted noise.

"Is Richards this annoying in your reality?" he asked, keeping it quiet so that Richards wouldn’t hear and go on another rant.

Other-Tony’s lips twitched. “Yes.”

"What are the chances it’s a universal constant and there is literally not a single Richards that isn’t annoying?"

A small frown tugged down Other-Tony’s brows, and he shifted to get a better reach at one of the parts of Richards’ machine. He grunted as he gave a bit of a yank, then hummed thoughtfully. He rolled the part upside down and examined it as he said, “Knowing my - our luck? High.”

"Thought so," Tony sighed. He handed Other-Tony the tool he needed for that part and picked up the one he’d tossed onto the table again, needing to keep his hands occupied.

"You gonna tell me what we fucked up in your reality?"

Other-Tony was silent, but Tony knew himself enough to wait with relative patience because that wasn’t ‘I’m ignoring you’ silence. It was a careful one, calculating variables and words and odds and if it was better to answer or not, and which answer was going to give the best outcome.

"We thought it was worth it." He sighed, setting aside the part and resting his arms on his knees. Other-Tony looked up at him, those blue eyes unfamiliar and startling every time. So much like the arc reactor - which he didn’t have anymore. "We thought it… it was the right thing to do." His lips compressed. "It wasn’t."

Tony sighed. “And you won’t tell me what it is.” He held up a hand when Other-Tony started to answer, saying, “No, you’re right not to tell me. Multiverse is screwed up enough with Richards messing with things. I’ll just… have to hope things go better here.”

Other-Tony watched him, thoughtful and looking just the slightest bit less bitter than usual. Tony sliced himself on the part and swore, shaking his hand and sucking on the mark. He looked at it, decided it didn’t even need a bandaid, and finished what he’d been doing.

Tossing the part to Other-Tony, he picked up the part that had been abandoned while they talked, sitting on the floor and curling over it. They worked in peace, almost intuitively together which made sense seeing as they were in many ways the same person (yet not, as Steve had insisted to Tony the other night. They were not the same, just similar, and they would not become them.)

"Do they trust you?"

The question was quiet, startling Tony back out of their work. He glanced over, raising his brows, but Other-Tony just kept focusing on the wires he was reconnecting. Tony didn’t even have to think about it.

"Yeah. They do."

"You trust them?"

"Completely."

Other-Tony nodded. “I used to, but he… he didn’t trust me, and Bucky didn’t trust any of us. I can’t trust anyone after…”

Tony couldn’t… he couldn’t imagine not trusting Bucky and Steve to have his back. The thought of it was almost enough to send him straight into a panic attack and he carefully sat upright, putting his back to the wall and breathing. Other-Tony glanced at him, confused for a few moments before he looked surprised and then grimaced.

"Didn’t think," he muttered.

"We’re cool."

"Damn it!" Richard shouted. "Stark, what did you do?"

Both of them looked up, defensive denials spilling and blending, as Richards kept hitting a button on his computer. The door across the room burst open, Other-Steve charging in with - where the hell did he get a gun?

Other-Tony tensed, so Tony quickly stepped between them. Like an idiot, because from the way Other-Steve acted he didn’t care which Tony he shot.

He held up his hands anyway. “Hey, Cap, just put-“

"I’m serious Stark," Richards continued, scowling, not even glancing up at the commotion. Tony rolled his eyes; the world could fall apart around Richards and he would be more concerned about whatever he was working on. And people called _Tony_ a workaholic.

"Richards, I haven’t touched your computer," he said. "We’ve been over here trying to fix your stupid machine, since you blew and fried a good half of the parts."

"This has your signature all over it," Richards argued. "I want to know why you were in my files."

"I wasn’t," Tony snapped, losing his patience. The click of a safety being removed was loud and his eyes snapped back over to Other-Steve.

"Answer him. What were you doing?" He looked between Tony and Other-Tony, eyes flint hard and close to empty and absolutely terrifying. Was this what villains stared down when facing Cap, because if it was Tony didn’t understand how they seemed so unaffected.

"Nothing, like I said, I did nothing." This wasn’t a time for sarcastic quips. His hands were visibly shaking, his heart hurting with how fast it was going in his chest.

"I haven’t touched his systems," Other-Tony denied. "It isn’t me."

"And I’m just supposed to believe that?" Other-Steve’s voice was quiet, cold. Tony’s throat was dry.

"Drop it, right now, or I _will_ shoot you in the back of the head.”

Tony’s breath rushed out in shaky relief, Bucky stepping into the room right behind Other-Steve. He should probably be worried by how cold and close to the Winter Soldier programming Bucky looked, more so than he’d been in a long time, like he was on the edge of losing it. He couldn’t really muster up the energy to, though.

Other-Steve stepped aside, gun still pointed towards Tony and Other-Tony.

"You don’t understand," he said. "You can’t trust Stark, Bucky."

"Are you fucking kidding me? If not for Tony, I wouldn’t be here right now. It’s you I don’t trust, and I was not kidding. You drop that gun or I will shoot you."

"I’d do as he said. We both know he’s serious." Steve stepped into view, a bruise on his jaw. Tony wondered where Other-Bucky was, then decided it probably wasn’t an issue at the moment. Steve and Bucky would have taken care of it.

Other-Steve looked _pissed_ , and Tony dared a glance back at Other-Tony. He looked like he had his cool, was fine, but Tony doubted it. He really, really doubted it.

Other-Steve held up his hands, a sneer that looked unnatural on his face, and put the safety back on before setting the gun on the ground.

"When he betrays you, you’ll understand."

Both Tony and Other-Tony flinched.

Bucky’s finger twitched, the aim shifting to Other-Steve’s shoulder, and the only thing that stopped him was Steve stepping forward. He got right in Other-Steve’s face, and it was… strange, to see them that close and the differences. Other-Steve looked older, angrier and more bitter. Steve held himself straighter, calmer, steadier. He didn’t look at Other-Steve with pity or sadness or anything Tony might have expected.

He looked disappointed.

"I am not going to ever give up on him. Not like you did. Now get the fuck out of here."

Bucky didn’t once take his gun off of Other-Steve.

Richards looked at them all with an irritated frown.

"Can we get back to who has been in my systems?"

Tony glared at him. “I am seriously going to kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was, until about a week ago, the end.
> 
> But then I got prompted again (moon, of course) and I finally got inspired for the wrap-up of this little sub-plot....


	40. Bonus Drabble 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Angsty Sentence Meme prompt moon sent - "Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you?"

Other-Tony had finally fallen asleep, slumped over the desk and drooling onto his own arm. Tony hesitated, not sure what to do. It was uncomfortable - Tony knew it was, he’d done it before though actually not recently. Not with Bucky and Steve around, taking care of him, making him want to _take care of himself_.

He knew, though, that Other-Tony needed that sleep. Tony knew the signs, could see them so easily in himself, and it was weird to see how good a show he could put on reflected back at him in Other-Tony, but Tony _knew_. Other-Tony hadn’t been sleeping.

He needed it. For now, he actually was tired enough and felt _safe_ enough to sleep, and Tony wasn’t going to take that from him.

He could get a blanket, though, that’d probably be a bit more comfortable than the cool air of Richards’ lab.

Tony glanced out of the door, not seeing anyone. It was late, past dinner which Tony had put off eating because he and Other-Tony had been nearing a breakthrough. Bucky had left a little while ago to pick up some food, should be back soon, and Tony hoped they could find a quiet room to just relax in because this was exhausting. Being around Other-Tony and the Other-Bucky and Other-Steve, it was completely exhausting and all Tony wanted was to fix this shit and go _home_.

He slipped across the room quietly, finding a blanket folded neatly across the back of the couch in the living room. Sue, probably. He picked it up, turning, and almost bumped into Steve.

"Whoa, there, snuck up on…" He trailed off, taking another quick step back as he realized it wasn’t Steve, it was Other-Steve. Tony held the blanket closer, unconsciously covering the arc reactor’s light with it. Of course Other-Steve noticed, eyes lighting upon it and narrowing.

Tony breathed past the panic lighting in his chest, hoped the blanket hid the worst of his shaking hands.

Other-Steve looked back up at him, eyes icy-blue, like the arctic he’d been frozen in had taken up residence inside of him.

"I’ll just, uh, be going…" Tony stepped to the side, starting to edge around him, and Other-Steve watched him the entire time. Not as harshly as he ever looked at Other-Tony. But there was some anger there, some expectation of disappointment, and even knowing this wasn’t Steve that _hurt_.

Tony ducked his eyes away from Other-Steve’s, focusing instead on his chest so he could still at least keep an eye on where he was, if he made some, Tony didn’t know, threatening move.

Where was _his_ Steve?

He was so focused on Other-Steve he didn’t realize Other-Bucky had stepped up behind him until he bumped into his chest, felt metal against his back and flinched, hard, away. He glanced between the two of them, trapped and knowing it and _hating it_. It felt like Afghanistan, like being cornered underground, outnumbered and outgunned and not only himself but someone he’d become friends with threatened.

Other-Tony was just through that doorway, and Tony didn’t know where Steve was, and Bucky was out getting food.

Tony straightened, pulling on every single trick he knew to get through this. Other-Steve, Other-Bucky… it was clear they didn’t know Other-Tony as well as Tony’s Steve and Bucky knew him. That meant, hopefully, that Other-Steve and Other-Bucky wouldn’t be able to read Tony like a damn book right then.

"Well, doesn’t this feel ominous?" he said, raising a brow. "Can I help you two?"

Other-Steve was looking him over, and for a second, _just a second_ , Tony thought he saw something there, like regret or uncertainty, but then it was gone.

"Too late for that," Other-Steve said. "Can only hope you don’t do anything worse here."

"I really resent that," Tony drawled. "I’d probably resent it more if I gave a damn what either of you thought of me, but."

"You’re a real piece of work, Stark," Other-Steve sighed. He shook his head, arms crossed. "Fooled me back in my world. You have them even more fooled here, though. They won’t listen to a thing I saw. Try to warn them and…" He shook his head again. "You sure have them wrapped around your finger."

"Yeah?" Tony laughed, smirking. "Try telling me that after they take over in the bedroom. Or mention how they want a _quiet_ date tonight. Or that they want to watch some lame movie and puppy-dog eye me into it.”

"Shut up," Other-Steve snapped.

"Why?" Tony mocked. "Is it upsetting you to know that they have everything you’re missing out on here? That we’re doing this _right_ , that they didn’t fuck up-“

"Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you?" Bucky interrupted. No, not Bucky. _Other_ -Bucky. Just because he sounded so much like Bucky didn’t mean he was Bucky, but damn, Tony _knew_ those words would be in his head for _ages_.

Tony’s voice… failed, and he couldn’t drag his eyes away from Bucky - Other-Bucky’s, cold and hateful and damn it _hurt_. He managed to break away, but realized he’d just looked back at Steve - Other-Steve - and he didn’t say anything, didn’t look like he, he objected, and Tony was shaking, he sucked in a breath and it wasn’t enough, and they wanted him not just dead, they wanted him to have _never existed_ and what if… what if that were true, it wasn’t like Tony _hadn’t_ ever wondered if people would have been better off without him in their lives. He’d never thought the _world_ would be, but that was a fair leap of logic, wasn’t it, that-

"Leave him alone."

Tony looked over, and Other-Tony was there. He leaned against the door frame with crossed arms and a coldly raised brow above those blue eyes that Tony just… they were weird, to look at his face and see blue eyes, it was weird.

But at least it was easier to think of Other-Tony not as himself with them. Other-Steve and Other-Bucky… if they didn’t look like they were constantly thinking of ways to get rid of him, Tony would have had trouble telling them apart from his Steve and Bucky.

Other-Tony sauntered into the room, drawing Other-Steve and Other-Bucky’s attention away from Tony, flicking a fast glance at Tony to check on him, before focusing back on those two.

"What? Got tired of fucking with me, decided to fuck with a Tony that is actually _happy_? Are you two that fucking pissed with me that you’re bullying the Tonys of the multiverse for kicks now?” He made a derisive sound. “Pathetic.”

Other-Bucky took a step forward, furious, but then Other-Steve was there, grabbing Other-Tony by the front of his shirt and yanking him close. Other-Tony didn’t even react to that except to raise his other brow, unimpressed and showing it clearly.

"Gonna go through with it this time, Stevie?"

"What the hell?"

Tony’s eyes went wide, because that was _Darcy_ with Bucky and no, no, not safe, why the fuck did he bring her here? Tony shot him a glare, and Bucky shrugged, looking defensive.

"She insisted!"

"Why does Other-Steve look like he’s about to throw Other-Tony out of a window?"

"Who are you?" Other-Bucky snapped.

"Darcy Lewis. Phil’s PA."

"What now?"

"Darcy," Tony snapped.

"Where’s Steve?" Bucky demanded, glaring at Other-Bucky. "What-"

"He’s fine, I wouldn’t hurt him even if he is being stupid." Other-Bucky rolled his eyes. "He’ll wake up in like fifteen minutes. We just wanted a… talk."

Other-Tony snorted. “You don’t know how to have a talk, Barnes, you know how to fucking-“

"Shut up, Stark."

"That’s enough!" Darcy snapped. She slammed a plate of cookies onto a counter and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at them all. Tony glanced at Bucky, eyes wide.

They were in trouble.

"Now, I want you two-" she pointed at Other-Steve and Other-Bucky. "To go away. I don’t care where right now, just… away. Or I’m bringing out the Lewis Special and yes, it does work on super-soldiers but if you’d like an example I’ll be happy to show you.

"You," she snapped, pointing at Other-Tony, "are going to get some sleep, you’ve not been taking care of yourself and that’s unacceptable, honestly, where is Other-Me, she’s not doing her job."

"I don’t even-" Other-Tony sounded baffled, but Darcy just cut him off, pointing at Tony next.

"You’re going to stay away from those two and whatever they’ve said to make you look like that, you’re going to tell _someone_ and _talk about it, don’t even with me right now Tones.”_

She glanced at Bucky. “You get Steve, and then bring the food into the lab. I have a call to make and then I’ll join you all.”

When no one moved, she raised a brow, hand slipping into her purse. “Well?”

Tony scrambled for the lab, keeping space between the Other-Steve and Other-Bucky and himself. Other-Tony hesitated only a moment before following after him.

Tony paused at the door as Other-Tony slipped past, listening as Darcy said into her phone, “Hey, it’s me, I’m gonna need some backup here, I think. It’s worse than we thought.”

"Shit," he muttered, closing the door and walking to the nearest chair. "She’s calling in Nat."

"Widow?" Other-Tony frowned. "Why-"

Tony held up his left hand, pointed to the ring finger. Other-Tony raised his brows, looking surprised for a few moments before thinking about it and obviously coming to a conclusion.

"That’s terrifying," he said.

Tony grinned. “You’ve no idea.” He waited a moment, and he shouldn’t ask but he had to know… “You don’t… Darcy Lewis? Jane’s assistant?”

Other-Tony leaned back, thoughtful. “I… maybe. Sounds familiar but, I mean, I never met…” He shrugged. “Thinking maybe I lucked out,” he chuckled.

Tony smiled sadly. “No. You didn’t.” They stared at each other for a moment before both looking away.

Darcy came in a few minutes later, pulling the forgotten blanket out of Tony’s hands and passing it to Other-Tony.

"Sleep. If they come in here, I’ll taser them."

Other-Tony took the blanket, looking curious. “Does it really-“

"Yes." She grinned. "You made sure of it."

"Huh." Other-Tony moved to the small cot at the far side of the room, laying down and staring at the ceiling. Darcy played some music on her iPod, soft and soothing and Tony smiled slightly at her. She ran her fingers through her hair.

"You okay?"

He shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he admitted. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember they aren’t… them.”

She nodded, frowning, and then Steve and Bucky were slipping inside, quiet and carrying food. Steve looked a bit pale and woozy, and a bit angry, and immediately after he put the food down he was in front of Tony, grabbing his face between his big palms.

"Are you okay? What did they say, do? I swear I’m gonna-"

Tony grabbed Steve’s wrists, smiling thinly. “I’m okay, Steve. I’m-“

"What. Did they. Do."

"Just… said some things, okay, it’s-"

"What."

"Nothing, it’s-"

"Tony," Bucky said, voice quiet and firm. "What did they say to you?"

Tony glanced at him as he crouched next to Steve, a hand on his shoulder.

"You look…" Bucky shook his head. "Hell, Tony, you look like they were breaking you apart and I…"

"What did they say?" Steve sounded almost heartbroken about it.

"It was noth-"

"They asked him if he’d ever thought the world would be better without him," Other-Tony said from the other side of the room. He looked at them as they stared, chin lifted and voice determined. "They… I did a lot of things, in my world. Things got really fucked up, and I thought - it was, it was the right thing to do, but how I had to make it happen was _wrong_ , and in the end some things happened that were _not_ worth it. They haven’t… Steve hasn’t forgiven me, probably never will, and I deserve that.” He nodded, as if to himself.

Steve stared at him. “I don’t imagine that-“

"The things I did, they hurt you, and people you cared about," Other-Tony interrupted. "You hate me."

"No," Steve said quietly, assuredly. "I don’t think I - he - does."

Other-Tony stared at him, then shrugged like it didn’t matter. Tony knew otherwise. Could see the hope Other-Tony was trying to squash.

"Anyway," he said breezily. "They think they’re preventing things like that from happening here. I doubt they will; it’s too different in this world. Certainly Bucky Barnes never stayed with us." He shrugged. "Maybe it’s enough to make a difference. I think it is. They don’t." He smiled wryly. "They’re just scared that it’ll happen here. Can’t blame them."

"Oh, I can," Bucky muttered, glaring at the door like he could see through the other side to them. "And I will."

Other-Tony shrugged, leaning back against the wall, eyes going distant.

"I told you to sleep," Darcy tutted.

"Almost got it figured out," Other-Tony muttered. "Sooner I fix it, sooner we can go, leave you all to your peace."

~*~*~

Tony jerked upright, breathing quickly, and looked around.

He was in their room, in their bed, Bucky’s metal arm over his hips, Steve’s leg’s tangled with his.

He glanced over, saw slivers of Steve’s eyes watching him, focused even if they also looked half-awake.

"Wouldn’t want a world without you in it, Tony," he murmured.

Tony laid back down, turning onto his side and sighing as Steve let him tangle their fingers together. Bucky’s arms tightened as he plastered himself against Tony’s back, making grumpy sleep-mumbles.

Tony stared at Steve, thinking back to that night three weeks ago, a week since they’d fixed the machine and sent the Other-Them back.

"Did you mean it?" he asked softly. "What you told Other-Me? That Other-Steve…"

"He’s mad," Steve said slowly, thinking on it. "He’s hurt, and he’s mad, and he’s stubborn." Steve smiled a bit. "If he’s half as stubborn as I am, that’s the real problem."

"But you think he…"

"He’s so in love with that Tony, it hurts _me_ to see him trying to pretend he isn’t.” Steve brought their hands up, kissing Tony’s knuckles. “He’s caving though. Never can resist you for long.”

Tony smiled, sad. “Not sure that he’ll believe it, not after what happened there. He talked about hurting that Steve but…”

"Yeah." Steve sighed. "He got hurt too. I can hope, though."

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "Guess I can, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end of this one.
> 
> Not of the series. I promise. But of the drabble-fic, of Building Sandcastles.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. Thank you for the delightful, fun, helpful reviews. I'm glad so many of you have been enjoying this. Don't worry I am not done here - and neither is moon with the ideas and Pet AU.
> 
> There are some drabbles not included in here on my tumblr (insaneandobsessed). And, if you haven't yet, go to moonrose91's and check out the Nat/Darcy and Phil/Clint Pet AU that's the other half of this - it gives me life, I love it so much.
> 
> Speaking of, moon and I ARE working on a plot together for this verse. ;) Keep an eye out, it'll start appearing at some point...


End file.
